When They Chase Us
by blackwolf412
Summary: Hello. It's me again. I didn't know I'd ever meet kids like me. I didn't know I'd ever fear for my life on an almost-daily basis. But you know what? I don't care. 'Cuz I'm havin' the time of my life.
1. Chapter 1

i have returned!

after a short break to get my bearings, i am back with spark, sy, the anti-flock, and all your other favorite OCs in tow.

(the anti-flock didn't want to come, but i threatened to take away their internet privileges and they suddenly changed their minds.)

so come along, my friends, for a wild and fantastic ride. if you haven't read my first maximum ride story, _when sparks fly_, you should go do that. and if you have, go right ahead and dive into this one! it is with great happiness that i present to you the second part of nicole "spark" ackerly's story: _when they chase us._

disclaimer: don't own maximum ride.

* * *

Hello.

It's me again.

Just like before, I've got a little FYI for ya:

I didn't know I'd ever meet kids like me.

I didn't know I'd ever abandon my family to stay with these kids.

I didn't know I'd ever get slapped in the face by a past I'd once forgotten.

I didn't know I'd ever come across mutants of the non-bird kind.

(I didn't know I'd ever befriend these mutants, either, but that's beside the point.)

I didn't know I'd ever fear for my life on an almost-daily basis.

But you know what?

I don't care.

'Cuz I'm havin' the time of my life.

_**1. riddle me this**_

_. . .This isn't right._

I sat up and looked around, taking in my surroundings. The walls were painted tan, dotted with posters and newspaper clippings and pictures and drawings. A window just opposite the bed I was on was flung wide open, displaying a view of a picturesque suburb. In the corner, a TV sat quiet and dark, gathering dust. And to the left of the bed was a small bookshelf/bedside table.

I was in my bedroom.

Really.

I flipped back the warm, dull-colored comforter and swung my legs to the carpeted floor, panic making my heart race.

Most kids don't panic when they wake up in their own bedrooms. But me. . .well, I hadn't been home in a month. And last time I thought I'd waken up home, I was actually just on the outskirts of Salt Lake City, in a virtual-reality cell that held so, so many memories of pain.

I crossed the room in two steps and grabbed the doorknob, yanking the door open and running out into the hallway.

Well, _tried_ to run. I only got about four feet when the house ended--literally _ended_, as if the wall that was supposed to be there had been ripped away, exposing a world of vast, shadowy dimness, swirling with black and gray smoke and reminding me horribly of what I'd once imagined the descent into Hades must be like.

I stumbled and nearly fell into the emptiness, knocking free a section of floor that spun down and away with a freakishly small amount of noise.

My heart was pounding in my ears, and my breaths were coming in short and shallow. I don't know why I felt so. . .so. . ._scared_ at this precipice. Maybe because two seconds ago I'd been in my home. Maybe because when I tried to ready my wings in case I _did_ fall I _couldn't feel a thing_.

Alarmed, I reached back and felt for my wings, letting out a sigh of relief when I felt them still there. I glanced back toward the weird shadow-world just a few feet away and backed away nervously.

_Jump._

I jerked in surprise at the sound of the voice. I looked around frantically and froze when I saw Con hovering above me in the shadow-world.

He looked exactly the same as when I'd last seen him, almost two days ago now. Tall, pale, black hair. Furious steel-gray eyes with gray-black wings to match.

I swallowed and stepped back again, ready to run for my life. If he pulled a gun or tried to torture my mind, I was dead. I'd gotten lucky way too many times before to get away again.

Con glared at me and crossed his arms. "Jump."

My eyes narrowed. "Um. . .what?"

"Jump," he repeated. He nodded his head towards the shadow-world behind him. "Your wings will work. Trust me."

I scoffed. "Bad choice of words there, Con. There's no way in_ hell_ I'm trusting you! First step I take off this ledge and you'll kill me!"

"I won't kill you." When I refused to move, Con scowled. "Fine then. But you have to choose anyway."

"Choose what?" I asked, confused. "There's no choice here, I'm not gonna jump!"

"You have to choose," Con said again. He swept his arm back to indicate the shadow-world. "This, or that!" He pointed behind me.

And--though everything I'd picked up on in the past month screamed at me to not turn my back on my worst enemy--I whirled around to see what he was pointing at.

I could still see the inside of my bedroom. The window was still open, and for the first time I could hear childish laughter, the rustling of leaves as a light wind swept through my neighborhood. I squinted a bit and saw seven oddly-shaped forms wheeling in the sky--the flock. There was a weird flash and suddenly Sy was there, too, sitting on the roof just outside the window. He turned and smiled at me, beckoning me.

I know, right? Freakish Shadow Realm* of darkness with only Con for company versus a bright and shining life with all my friends and family? No-brainer.

And yet I hesitated. I glanced back at Con, who crossed his arms again, smirking.

"Well? Which are you gonna pick?" he asked, some of the ol' cockiness he'd had when we'd first met coming back to him as he watched me fret. "Me, or them?"

My jaw clenched as my hands curled into fists. And what I did next was the reason why I'll never be the "quiet and obedient" type.

"Screw off!" I yelled, and then I turned and ran for my room. I began to unfold my wings and heard Con cry out, "No, Spark, wait! It's a trap!" As if he were actually concerned for my well-being.

I didn't care. The window was open. I sprang out onto the roof, felt the sun shine on my skin and the breeze dance through my feathers. Con--idiot--had just been trying to trick me. It wasn't a trap. I took a deep breath as I gazed around the setting of my childhood, my eyes focusing on the kids playing kickball in the cul-de-sac, the parents hanging around in the driveway right under my window. I saw the flock again and waved. They waved back.

Something touched my arm and I looked to my right. Sy had stood up, taking my hand as he smiled at me.

"I'm sorry, Spark," he said serenely, tilting his head and looking at me with that universal you're-so-stupid-but-it's-cute look.

My mood deflated a little. "Why?"

Sy laughed and shook his head. "Con was right. This is a trap."

My breath froze in my throat and my eyes went wide.

Sy smiled once again. "You made the wrong choice."

Then he turned into smoke and swirled away.

My heart plummeted.

Panic gripped my soul and I turned back to the neighborhood, only to see the people turn to smoke and fade away just as Sy had done. The landscape started to fade as well, and I tried to flee through the window, but it'd disappeared. I cracked open my wings and jumped before the roof vanished beneath my feet, but my muscles froze up and I couldn't do anything but scream as I began to fall.

* * *

"Spark, Spark, wake up! Wake up, Spark, it's just a dream!"

I sat up so fast I conked my head against whoever'd been leaning over me.

"Ow!" we both said in unison. I recoiled and clutched my aching head, scrambling back until my back bumped against the headboard of the bed. The collision had hurt surprisingly badly.

"Geez, you try to help a kid!" the voice that had woken me groaned, and I sensed him sit down on the end of the bed.

"I-Iggy?" I stuttered, opening my eyes and looking up.

We were--for a record-breaking second time in a week--in a hotel. Well, actually, it was a motel, with an "m," because it was as crappy as hell. The room was dark, but that didn't matter--two percent bird DNA allowed us to see almost perfectly in the dark. On the end of my bed was Iggy, rubbing his forehead irritably, while everybody else remained asleep.

It'd been about a week or so since we'd left Chicago, and we were only now at our preliminal destination of South Carolina. The reason for the delay was because we'd had to detour around through Kentucky, after a few "friends" caught up to us.

I put quotes around "friends" because the anti-flock are really our worst enemies. Or mine, at least. Not too sure about other enemies Max might have.

But anyway, I think I should catch you up on the past week of my life.

Okay, so first my math teacher turned into a Fury and tried to kill me, and then my best friend--a satyr, apparently--dragged me to this place called Half-Blood Hill when a Minotaur attacked us and I think it killed my mom and then it knocked out my friend, so I snapped off part of its horn and stabbed the beast before I. . .

. . .Wait. Oh, silly me, that's Percy Jackson. Sorry. Got a lil' confused.

Now, let's see. . ._Our_ journey, beginning at that hotel in Indiana, had been rather uneventful until we touched the southeast tip of the state--that's when Con, Blaze, Swift, Shadow, and Avi had showed up, guns blazin' and tempers raisin'. We'd fought them off, but it was a brief victory: the anti-flock caught up the next morning and chased us east, through Kentucky before we lost them somewhere along the Mississippi River.

Needless to say (and yet I say it anyway), it'd been a long, annoying, and hectic six days.

"Yeah," Iggy said in response to my identification, turning his head toward me. Frowning, he added, "That hurt."

"Oh. Uh, sorry," I mumbled. I drew my knees up to my chest and hugged my legs. My forehead was throbbing--part from collision with Iggy, part from vivid horribleness of dream.

"Hey, you okay?" Iggy asked, having heard me move. He reached out a hand and touched my leg.

I fleetingly considered lying, shrugging it off. Possibly even making a joke and claiming he was a creeper for leaning over people while they slept. But. . .that dream. It'd been freaky. _Beyond_ freaky. Like, I don't _ever_ remember _any_ of my dreams being that freaky.

I shook my head. "N-not exactly."

I could just see the alarm bells going off behind his pale, sightless blue eyes. "Bad dream?" he guessed.

"_Freaky_ dream," I replied. I could still hear Con's voice shouting at me that it was a trap. . .I dropped my head to my knees. God damn it all to hell, why'd he have to be right?! Why'd he even have to _be_ in my dream?!

"Wait, let me guess," Iggy said, holding up a finger. I looked up. "Max was there. And she was being nice to you. And Fang was, like, wearing pink. And Nudge was being quiet!"

I snickered and cracked a smile. "That'd be enough to scare_ anybody_. But nah, that wasn't it." I leaned my head back against the headboard and let out a breath. "It was. . .nothing. Why'd you even come over to wake me up?"

Iggy shrugged. "I got up to go to the bathroom and heard you shifting around and mumbling something. I guessed you were having a nightmare and just woke you up."

"What was I mumbling?" I asked quickly.

Iggy thought for a second. "Something like, 'No, don't,' and, um, 'How'd I choose wrong?' or something." He tilted his head. "What were you dreaming about?"

"Uh. . .well, like I said. N-nothing."

Iggy paused, as if debating with himself over pressuring me to tell him or not, and decided against (thankfully). He let out a breath and stood up. "Well, whatever. See ya in the morning."

". . .Night," I said, watching him cross over to where he'd been crashing on a roll-away bed. He was asleep in ten minutes.

Once I was sure Iggy was out for the night, I unclenched from the protective ball I'd curled up into after he'd woken me up. Beside me, Nudge and Total lay asleep, dreaming the dreams of the innocent. (. . .I hope.) Over on the other bed were Max, Angel, and Gazzy, also far away in dream-land. Iggy was on the roll-away, and Fang was stretched out between two armchairs. (Poor sap--he'd drawn the short straw.)

Just the luck that came with my drastically changed life that _I_ had to be the one with rest-robbing nightmares.

* * *

I yawned. After my nightmare last night, I'd barely gotten any more sleep. Like, an hour, tops. I picked my legs up off the floor and crossed them in my chair. "Too easy," I said. "It's a shadow."

"Oh." Nudge frowned, disappointed. "You're right."

"I knew that!" Total said loudly from under Iggy's chair. We all shushed him and he settled down, offended.

"You're really good at these, huh?" Angel asked, taking her eyes from the computer screen to smile at me.

"I guess." I shrugged carelessly. "Just takes a different type of thinking, I guess."

"Will you guys quit messing around?" Max asked irritably. "We're supposed to be Googling your parents, remember?"

"To the perverted mind, that statement can be taken as mildly dirty," I said, scooting back from the table so I had enough room to spin in my chair. (I may be tired, but even drop-dead exhausted I am to weak to resist the fun of spinny chairs.) "That is, if your definition of 'messing around' is the same as 'fooling around' and you substitute 'Googling' for. . ."

"Enough!"

The little kids giggled, more at Max's annoyance than at the context of my words. Fang and Iggy got it, though, and laughed. 'Cuz they're, you know, teenage guys.

Perhaps I should take the time to explain the situation.

We were in a library, somewhere in northern South Carolina (which in itself is kinda oxymoronic, innit?). Having temporarily commandeered a few of the computers, we were carrying out a passing fancy before heading out to Columbia, the capital, where we'd meet Max's mom and sister and the CSM guys who wanted us to go to Australia.

If you have questions, I have answers.

Who are we? If you don't already know, go away. Seriously--there are other books about us. Well, more Max and the others than me, but still. Go read those. I'm far too lazy to do any nutshelling at the moment anyway.

Why were we using library computers? Because when Max, Fang, and everybody else had decided to up and rescue me from the Factory a week ago, they packed up all their earthly belongings and brought them with. So, of course, they were all taken away once the flock was captured. Both of our laptops had been jacked so here we were, kinda. . .laptop-less.

And why were we Googling our parents? Well, since we knew their names now, we thought we might as well begin the search before our temporary reprieve from American society. Who knows? Maybe some of our parents are, like, famous or something. Or just one of those people who make Wikipedia entries for themselves and posts them online.**

The thing was, the library computers were maddeningly slow. So slow, in fact, that Nudge had opened a new tab and found a riddles website that we were now exploring. The score stood at Spark: 29, Total: 8, and Rest of Flock: 1. And despite the fact I was winning, it was getting old.

"Oh!" Nudge's face lit up as she clicked back to the Google tab. "It loaded!"

"And?" Everybody turned to look at her, a few of us sneaking glances at Fang--it'd been his parents' names, Daniel Mitchell and Jacqueline Finley that we'd just punched into the search engine.

"Oh," Nudge said again, though with much less enthusiasm. "Sorry, Fang. There's nothing here."

Everybody let out disappointed sighs, and Fang went still for a second--well, even more still than usual. Then he tried to shrug it off. "Whatever. There're lot of people out there. Not all of 'em are online."

"That's right," Max said reassuringly to the flock. Nobody's parents had popped up on the searches, though I had some thoughts about that. "But hey, at least we know their names. As soon as we finish this Australia gig, we'll go find them. I promise. Now, have we searched everybody? I told my mom we'd be in Columbia, like, last week."

"Um. . .yeah, I think so," Nudge said, clicking back a few pages. "I mean, we didn't search _your_ parents, because you've already met 'em, and Iggy and Spark know their families too, so really it was just me, Fang, Angel and Gazzy, and we did them first, then me, and now Fang, so we're done." Nudge clicked the mouse again and she smiled. "Ooh, here's a hard one! 'We are little creatures, we all have different features. One of us in glass is set, another one you'll find in jet. . .' "

Everybody groaned.

* * *

*yes. i _did_ just make a reference to yu-gi-oh.

**i don't know if people do this, or even if it's possible. but wouldn't it be fun?

once again: hello! how's it goin'? me, i'm great. new story, better intel about my own writing, new ideas. . .it's all good. though, it was surprisingly difficult to get here--the start of a new story. but here we are. hope it didn't disappoint.


	2. Chapter 2

so the dream was a good start, yeah? thought it would be. there were lots of different ways i could've started this story--at first i didn't know what to do--but eventually came up with that. glad it went over well.

but enough of my rambling. on to chapter two!

disclaimer: don't own maximum ride.

* * *

_**2. nightmares and suspicion and accusations, oh my**_

_"Con was right. This is a trap. You made the wrong choice."_

I gasped and sat up so fast I nearly tumbled from the tree. When I realized I wasn't falling, I took a deep, shaky breath, a hand over my pounding heart. I wasn't falling. I wasn't going to die. (. . .I don't think.)

Man, that stupid _dream!_ I'd been having it for the past three nights now, and every time I chose the window over the shadow-world! Even though I knew what was going to happen! It was ridiculous!

Currently, the eight of us--Max, Fang, Iggy, Nudge, the Gasman, Angel, Total and I--were camping out in some forest just outside Columbia, South Carolina. Tomorrow we'd meet up with Max's mom, Dr. Martinez, so we could go to the CSM meeting about our tour of Australia.

For some _weird_ reason (if you don't sense the sarcasm in that, shame on you), I couldn't get to sleep. Technically, it was Max's watch, so we were the only ones awake. The flock was spread out over two close-grown trees, with me, Fang, Iggy, and Nudge in one and Max, Angel, the Gasman, and Total in the other.

"Spark?" Max said.

I looked down to where she was reclining on her branch and once again realized how similar to my own family she looked--similar hair color, eye color. We could've been related, even though I was, like, ninety-eight percent sure we weren't.

She'd probably heard me wake up--she looked almost worried.

"I'm fine," I said mechanically, then chided myself. Of _course _she wouldn't believe me when I said it like _that_.

Max's eyes narrowed. "Was it that dream?"

I hesitated. ". . .Who told you?"

"Fang."

I cursed silently. Two nights ago, I really _had_ fallen from my tree branch--right onto Fang, who'd been beneath me. It'd been majorly embarrassing, so don't ask me about it any further. Long story short, I'd had to tell him about the dream. I should've known he'd tell Max. Stupid goth.

"It's nothing," I mumbled, leaning back against the trunk of my tree. "Really." Then, before she could grill me further, I sprang my own question on her. "So where're we going to meet your mom? Like, a hotel, a mall, what?"

"We're not done with this dream thing," Max told me, scowling at my sudden change in subject. "Why's it scaring you?"

"I-I'm not _scared_!" I protested. Because, you know, stuttering's _so_ convincing. "Just. . .freaked out."

"Okay, then, why's it freaking you out?" When I didn't answer, she got impatient. "Spark, you can't run away from--"

"Just stop!" I snapped, uncharacteristically frustrated. When I have a problem, don't bug me about it. If I wanna talk about it, I'll talk about it. And I did _not_ want to talk about this, least of all with Max. "Look, I'll deal with it, all right? Leave me alone!"

"Spark, you have to. . ."

I tuned her out after that and flicked my eyes toward the sky. . .or what I could see of it through the branches of the trees, anyway.

Nine days ago (I think--the days sort of blended together after a while), I'd looked up at this same sky with Sy, second-eldest experiment of the human/fish project and the coolest guy in the world. I've known him for nearly a month now, but already I considered him my best friend. Best friend, and--though I feel weird saying it--boyfriend. Geez, never thought I'd have one of those while a teenager.

I wondered idly where he was. Probably back in Chicago, working with Joey and Frankie--cat hybrids--on the plan to free all the mutants worth saving. That, and secretly making lives of all Itex employees a living hell.

"--ven listening to me?"

"Huh?" I blinked and looked back at Max, who looked really worked up about something. Perhaps I should've listened to whatever she'd been saying. "Were you. . .?"

"Did you hear a word I just said?" she demanded before I could finish.

"Um, _yeah_," I said, faking an offended expression. "I heard you say 'Are you even listening to me' and 'Did you hear a word I just said.' See?"

Annoyed and irritated, she rolled her eyes. "No, I mean before that."

"Oh. Then no, I was totally blocking you out," I said. "I tend to do that when I feel a lecture coming on." I tilted my head. "Was what you said important?"

She opened her mouth to snap, "Kinda!"

"Oh," I said again. "Well so-_rry_. My mind was elsewhere."

"I'd appreciate it if your mind was here right now," Max said coldly, her eyes narrowing.

"Okay, what did I do to you?" I asked, more than a little confused. "All I did was not listen for like ten seco--"

"What happens in that dream you were just having?"

I glared hard at her. "I'm not the type to share my dreams in hopes of interpretation. I'm dealing with it, all right?"

"Fine," she practically snarled. "Then I'll move on to my next question. Are you feeding information to Itex?"

I stared at Max. Had she suddenly gone insane? Had that Voice of hers finally driven her 'round the bend? "Um, _what?_"

"Are you feeding information about us to Itex?" she asked again, and I could see she was one hundred percent serious. Like, ready to leap up and kill me if I said yes.

"Nooo," I said slowly. "Why in the _hell _would you ever think tha--"

"None of us have a tracking chip, and yet somehow Con and them found us," Max interrupted again. Her words dripped with dirision. "Now, personally, I thought they were a bunch of idiots who couldn't even kill a flock of flying mutants while they slept, but maybe I was wrong."

Were the anti-flock actually capable of not screwing up, I'd say something like, "Maybe they're just really good trackers." But because they're _not_, I said, "They're gonna do whatever it takes to find us again. They probably just got lucky, I really don't see ho--"

Again, Max cut me off. (It was starting to get _really _annoying.) "And because _nothing_ in our lives is _ever_ just blind luck or coincidence, they must've known where we were. So, the only options I see are that one of us secretly has a tracker chip, or another one of us told a certain betraying jerk who told Con where we're going. Sound like anyone you kno--"

_"Will you shut the hell up?!"_

Max glared poison at me and I glared right back, so fed up with her not trusting me and so strung out from the past however the hell many days it'd been since our escape from the Factory that I was about one accusation away from snapping.

"Unless we're implanted with them, I don't see how _any_ of us could be hiding chips," I said carefully, my clenched fists nearly shaking with fury. "When they captured us, they took away _everything_. Even our clothes! And because I'm sure you don't suspect any of your perfect little flock, I will assure you that I _do not_ have _anything_ that could be giving off our coordinates."

"That leaves me with the other option," Max practically snarled. "Somebody told somebody who told Con!"

_"I didn't tell anybody!"_

"Don't lie to me!" Max snapped. "I _saw_ you, Spark. Sy caught up to us in Indiana and you went out on the balcony with him for nearly twenty minutes!"

I felt my cheeks flare up as I felt a hint of panic. _Was she watching us? _"You. . .he _betrayed_ me!" I spluttered. "He betrayed _all _of us, I hate his guts!"

"Don't. Lie. I _saw_ you," she said, glaring at me. "When you opened the door to the room, I woke up. I was watching you, Spark, and it didn't look to me like you hated his guts."

"Y-you. . .you don't get it!" I said, so embarrassed I could barely think straight. Now, I'm a pretty outgoing kid, and I'm willing to do some pretty crazy stuff without fear of mortification--things like bursting out into song as I'm dragged from room to room, or pretending to be a boy to help my best friend get back at her cheating ex (that was a fun day)--but just knowing Max had been spying on me as I was with Sy was just too much.

"What don't I get? Just how _great_ Sy really is?" she sneered. "How strong and cute and caring and. . ."

"_No!_" I insisted. _I don't have a choice_, I thought._ I have to tell her now._ "You don't understand the fact that he _never betrayed us_!"

"Oh, sure," she growled at me. She was really pissed, which made _me_ pissed. "It was all an act, right?"

"Yes!!"

"Bull! How can you believe that, Spark, he. . ."

"Only kidnapped me so he could get me out!" I interrupted. "Yes, he hit me, and yes, I thought he'd betrayed me--I mean, I broke five of his ribs because I thought that!--but he only did it so he could get me _out _of the Factory that much easier!"

"Oh, really? Then why did he come back for _us_?" Max demanded hotly. "It was pretty clear he only played _us_ so Con could get us to the Factory too!"

"No, no, no, just shut up for a second! He had a plan, okay, but it. . .I don't know _what_ happened, it got sidetracked or something, I. . .Oh, forget it." I stopped and took a breath. We'd been yelling back and forth in whispers, so the flock hadn't woken up, but I still felt as worn out as if Max and I had been screaming at each other.

I took a second to recuperate and started again. "Look, Max. I don't think I ever told you how I _really_ got out back there. Would you like to know?" I was straining to keep my voice calm and neutral.

Max rolled her eyes. "Fine. Tell me how you got out."

"I only got out because Sy helped me," I said firmly, staring Max right in the eye. She blinked, then furrowed her brow in suspicion, as if she wasn't ready to believe me. I put on a seriouser. . .er, my seriousest. . .um. . .hm. How do I. . .? Ah.

I put on my _most serious _expression and went on. "I was supposed to die that night. They had the needle and everything. But Sy--_being on the inside track_--got wind of it and enlisted two other guys to help him help me. Sy slipped me the key to my cuffs and the other two let me go when they were supposed to be taking me to the death room the whitecoats had set up for me."

"Sy. . .slipped you the key?" Max said slowly, watching me warily.

"Yeah. If it weren't for him and the other two, I'd be dead," I said bluntly. "We'd_ all_ be dead, because it wouldn't've been long before they killed you, too. I mean, it's not like you would've given in or anything."

Max deflated like an airy brownie I'd just poked with a toothpick. I leaned back again and closed my eyes, giving her time to gather what dignity she had left.

"Who were the other two?" she finally asked. I sighed.

"Cat hybrids. They're not important." (Not to her, anyway.) I got to my feet and shook out my wings slightly. "I'm going for a walk."

"Spark, wait!" Max tried to call me back, but I didn't listen to her. I mean, when have I ever?

I dropped to the forest floor and pulled up sharply, coasting low to the ground for about thirty feet. Then I backpedaled and came to a running stop, just shy of slamming into the fringe of trees. Still ignoring Max's whispered cries for me to come back, she still needed to talk, I pulled my wings in and started to walk.

I wasn't running away or anything--I just needed to clear my head. And I couldn't do that with Max breathing down my neck. So, hands in my pockets and eyes staring absently at the ground, I walked. I wasn't worried about getting lost, or being gone too long. I just needed to _think_.

I'd messed up. Bad. My reluctance to tell her anything--plus this, my walking away--had probably crushed any trust Max had had in me. But in my defense, she'd started it. Didn't she know me well enough by now to leave me alone?

Well, I guess not. The past month, I'd been pretty upbeat. Happy. Not troubled. These guys hadn't dealt with a troubled Spark before. Everybody else, yes. My human friends, yes. My family, yes. Anti-flock, yes (though in their case, it was their fault, and they'd just beaten me up for it). This flock? Not so much.

I stopped and sighed. I looked back over my shoulder, but the trees we'd been sleeping in weren't visible anymore. Maybe I should go back. . .I hadn't been paying attention, but I couldn't've gone too far. . .

_Crick._

In an instant I was tense, whirling around toward the source of the noise. I didn't see anything, but just to be safe. . .I backed up and whipped out my wings, ready to leap into the air.

I'd just taken a running jump when I crashed into a sheer net, barely ten feet above the ground. I was slammed back to the forest floor and through my thrashing, I caught a brief glimpse of four dark shadows dropping from the trees.

_"Hey!"_ I yelled, squirming around and trying to stand. But the net must've been designed to lock fast to whatever surface it landed upon, because no matter how hard I tried I couldn't get back to my feet. Helpless to do anything else, I hollered at the top of my lungs, praying somebody would hear me. _"Get this thing offa me!! Let me up, let me go!! Somebody! Help!"_

I heard quick footsteps and twisted around so I could see behind me. A fifth dark figure, its head distorted by the baseball cap it was wearing, quickly closed the distance between us so it could quiet my cries.

I dimly registered Con's face before his clasped fists swung around to deliver a wicked blow to the side of my head. He'd attacked so fast I hadn't had time to block.

Little white stars flashed across my vision as I spun around, the ground rushing up to meet my face.

My last thought before I blacked out?

_I'm screwed._

* * *

oh _no_. only two chapters in and already spark's getting kidnapped again.

perhaps max should consider a leash.


	3. Chapter 3

sorry it took so long. had a bit of writer's block.

disclaimer: don't own maximum ride.

* * *

_**3. terror of the deep**_

Wings? Duct-taped to my back.

Hands? Duct-taped together to my back.

Legs? Duct-taped together around thigh, knee, and mid-calf.

(As you can see, there was a lot of duct tape involved.)

Ankles? Duct-taped together, plus wrapped up in chains that connected me to about two hundred and fifty pounds of loose weight. (They weren't going to be taking any more chances with _me_ anymore.)

I was trussed up like a genetically enhanced turkey, with a gun to the back of my head and in the sweet, sweet company of my most hated enemies. My temples were throbbing and I felt all woozy and, as was becoming far too frequent, I was pretty freakin' scared for my life.

Con pressed his revolver even harder against my skull. "Well, Sparky, this is it. You die today."

I let out a tiny sigh. "Wasn't I supposed to die, like, however long ago it was that I was at the Factory?" I asked mildly. (They'd run out of duct tape before they could get to my mouth. (Even though most people would, like, do the mouth _first_.)) "Plus, it's night. And I'm slightly offended that you doubt my ability to see the obvious."

As of right now, it seemed as if all the effort that had been put in to rescue me from the Factory would be wasted. Because as of right now, I was on a boat, a big-ass cruise ship by the name of _Princess Andromeda_. We were at the stern (boat talk for back end), just a foot or so shy of the edge of the deck, with nary a spit of land in sight.

I couldn't fly.

I couldn't fight.

I couldn't escape.

. . .It looked pretty grim.

To put it bluntly and in the form of an understatement.

"Well, you know, sometimes I wonder," Con said, in response to my comment. The gun clicked, and I closed my eyes.

But the shot didn't come. Instead, he dropped his gun. I hopped and spun around to face him and the rest of the anti-flock, only to find Con's steely gray eyes locked on me, staring with a weird intensity. The rest of the flock looked. . .confused. Possibly worried, eyes flickering between me and Con nervously.

"Um. . .aren't you going to kill me?" I asked. " 'Cuz if you are, I'd rather you got it over with already. I've got a massive takeover planned once I get to hell."

"Well, killing you _is_ the plan," Con replied smoothly. "However. . ."

"Con?" Blaze interrupted, sky-blue eyes flickering silver. They did that when she got irritated. No idea why. She pushed away from the rail of the ship and took a step forward. "What are you doing? I thought we said. . .!"

Con held up a hand and she stopped, looking frustrated.

"Quick question, Sparky," Con said to me, ignoring Blaze. Something in his voice made me tense up, and I clenched my fists when he tilted his head to one side, like a dog does when you say "treat." "Why are you running from us?"

"Wha. . .?" _Why such a stupid question? What's he trying to do?_ "Um. . .maybe because _you're chasing me_. And trying to _kill me_. Ever think of that?"

Con's eyes flashed. "I'm _trying_ to give you a _chance_, Spark," he said tightly. "You _don't_ have to die, but I'll kill you if you make me."

"You are making very little sense," I said. "Hardly any, really. What are you trying to do? Mess with my mind? 'Cuz it's kinda workin'."

"Con, let's just kill her and get it over with," Shadow piped up. The little blond boy dragged his knuckles across his eyes, like he was tired, and I briefly wondered how late it was.

"Pipe down," Con snapped. "I'm trying to fix this."

"Fix _what_?" the eight-and-a-half-year-old blond boy cried in exasperation. "We were doing fine up till now! Why didn't we just kill her back in the clearing?"

Now that he'd mentioned it, I wondered at that too. Why _had_ they brought me here? If they were planning to kill me, the could've done so a long time ago. What was going on?

"Con. . .let's just give up."

Everybody stopped and turned to stare at Avi. Up till now, she'd been hanging back in silence, just near Swift, watching the proceedings without much interest. But now. . .now she was stepping up, voicing her thoughts, challenging the authority of her own flock leader. It was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.

Con looked _pissed_. Slowly, with a voice that was slow and strained, he said, "_What_ did you say?"

"Let's just give up," she repeated, stepping forward and dropping her gun-arm. All eyes were on her as she shifted uncomfortably, rubbing the back of her neck. . .and, suddenly, I realized she'd provided me with the perfect distraction, unintentionally or maybe even purposely.

Quickly, I glanced down at myself. I was so covered in duct tape I looked like I'd been dressed in a silver jumpsuit, and the chains were padlocked around my ankles by a mean-looking combination lock. I glanced over my shoulder at the sea behind me, and my heart sank. The water was kinda far down, and if the wake of the ship didn't pummel me into a submissive death then the weight would surely drag me down instead. _Damn_. No loopholes in _this_ plan to do away with me.

As I puzzled over my predicament, Avi went on. "I mean, if we hadn't run away like we did, they'd've killed us." _Oh-_ho_!_ thought I. _They're after me to keep _themselves_ alive! What a twist!_ (. . .Okay, I didn't _really _think those _exact_ words. No _way_ was I upbeat enough to phrase it like that.) "We really messed up this whole thing, and I'm tired of it. So let's just. . .give it up."

There was a short silence, but then, like, a million things happened at once. Con whirled around and pointed his gun at Avi. She shrieked and Swift leaped up, yanking her out of the way as Con fired. The bullet whistled dangerously close to Avi's ear, snapping off a few strands of her red-tipped hair.

"Con, what the hell do you think you're doing?!" Blaze jumped forward and smacked Con's arm down. He rounded on her but Blaze stood her ground, her eyes flashing silver as flames danced around her fingertips. "Are you _crazy!?!_" she shouted at him. "You could've killed her, what's the matter with you?!"

"You think _I'm_ not tired of it?!" he yelled back at her. He turned back to Avi, expression filled with such hate I was actually kind of impressed. Usually I was the only one who could do that to him. "The reason we've been tracking her is so we can get things back to normal!" Con cried. "We have to kill her once and for all so _we_ don't end up dead!"

Nobody said a word--actually, they kinda just stared at Con like he was a little bit insane. He gave a frustrated groan before barking out, "Shadow! Swift!"

Shadow jumped. "Y-yeah, Con?"

"Drop the weight! _Now!_"

"R-right!" Shadow leaped up and started pushing the chained weights. Swift sent Con a wicked glare before leaving Avi's side to help.

I let out a defeated sigh, incredibly angry with myself for not being able to find a way out of the situation. Because I wasn't smart enough this time, I was going to pay for it. . .with my life. "Ah, well. I was always afraid I'd die in a boring way, but I guess that ain't the case. Two hundred and fifty pounds should drag me down pretty quickly. Does drowning hurt? Don't know. Oh! Maybe a shark will come by and eat me before I drow--SHIIIT!"

Shadow and Swift shoved the weights over the edge and the chain around my ankles jerked. I crashed to the deck and slid off over the edge, and then I was falling, and then there was a giant _splaassshhh!_ and I was underwater.

It all happened so fast, because suddenly I was sinking, and water was rushing up my nose and I opened my mouth to gasp but--surprise!--got a mouthful of ocean. I couldn't breathe, and I couldn't break free, and the water was everywhere, drowning me, suffocating me, and I couldn't breathe and I couldn't do _anything _and I. . .I. . .I couldn't. . .stay. . .conscious. . .

* * *

Later, when he looked back on it, his walking past the window to his cabin of the _Princess Andromeda_ was a good/bad thing.

The good part of it? It allowed him to see what had happened so he could do something about it.

The bad part of it? It allowed him to _see what had happened_. He'd be having nightmares for, oh, say, _the rest of his life_. Because, really, what's more heart-stoppingly terrifying than seeing your best friend plunging to her death?

And that's really what it looked like. Sy just stared, dark blue eyes wide with horror, as Spark crashed to the deck, a pile of weights dragging her off the edge of the ship and toward the merciless terror that was the ocean.

_"NO!"_

He didn't stop to wonder why Spark was even here, or how Con's flock had found and kidnapped her again. He didn't stop to think about anything at all. He just reacted, running out the door so fast he was a silver blur. In a manner of seconds he was up on the deck and vaulting over the railing, throwing himself into the sea as if his life depended on it.

And--to him--it pretty much did.

As soon as he touched the water, his fish DNA reacted and his legs shot together, silver scales erupting out of his skin and a fin growing from his feet. Sy twisted around and swam downwards, escaping the bubbles caused by the ship's hull as it cut through the water. Once he was in the clear, he turned this way and that, searching for Spark.

And there she was! Thrashing, twisting, straining against the weights, fighting to keep from sinking, blond hair twirling around her head like a halo. . .

Sy shot through the water, swimming as fast as he could to get to her before she got too far down, before she drowned. He was almost there when her movements began to slow, her struggling weakening and weakening until, finally, she stopped moving altogether, hanging limply in the water.

_No!_

He shot down faster than a bullet leaving a gun, going for her feet first so as to grab the chain and slow the descent. But two hundred and fifty pounds was a lot, even for him. The combination lock anchoring the chain to her feet was an issue as well. . .he didn't have time to crack it. Sy looked up at Spark in panic--she was really unconscious now, tiny air bubbles streaming from between her lips.

_No, no, no. . .!_

Sy curled his hand, fingernails glowing and turning silver. Soon he had razor-sharp caps of silver over his fingertips, which he used to slash through the lock between the chain links. Then he released the power before it turned him. . .well, turned him into the evil, red-eyed persona that was Dylan.

Sy grabbed Spark around the waist and rocketed straight up, rushing for the surface, for air. All he could think about was Spark, unconscious in his arms, and how frustratingly _slow_ he seemed to be going.

But then, something happened to him that had never happened to him (or any other fish hybrid) before. His single fish tail separated into two separate limbs. So now, rather than a merman, he looked more like a human diver, with two scaled legs and flippers instead of feet. Surprisingly (and thankfully), having the two fins allowed him to swim faster.

_No time to think. Come on, come on, come on!_

They broke the top of the water and Sy kept kicking his flippers to stay afloat. Spark remained limp in his arms.

"No, no, no, Spark, come on, don't you die on me," he mumbled incoherently. "No, no, no, no, no, please breathe, please breathe, come on, don't die, please!"

The thing about the ocean is. . .well, it's the _ocean_. It's just water, everywhere, all around, for miles and miles and miles. There's nothing, no land upon which to rest. Just a great, vast emptiness.

Sy's panic level increased ten-fold. Unless he did something, like, right now, Spark would die.

_Come on, come on, think, think, think! What can I do? How can I save her?!_

* * *

My first thought as gross, watery bile shot up my throat and out my mouth?

_If this is death, it sucks._

My lungs were burning, and so was my nose. I tried opening my eyes, but the water was salty so it hurt and I kept my lids tightly shut. I puked up what felt like gallons of seawater and acidic ickiness before I was aware of the waves splashing around me, of the voice babbling incoherently above my head.

"It's okay, it's okay, you're alive, just spit it out, you're gonna be fine, everything's going to be okay. . ."

I gagged and coughed up more water, my head jerking forward into the waves. I realized I was still in the ocean, and freaked. My body thrashed instinctively, but I was still tied up, bound by God knew how many rolls of duct tape. I tried to kick my legs, but they were stuck together, and I started panicking even more.

_OhmyGod, ohmyGod, why am I still in the water?! What the f*ck's going on?! What's happening?! How did I get to the surface?! WHAT'S GOING ON!?!?!?_

"Spark, calm down, you're okay!" a voice yelled in my ear. "It's all right, I've got you, just calm down!"

I knew that voice. I knew it better than almost any other voice in the world, despite the fact I'd only first heard it a month ago or so. _I loved that voice_.

My freak-out level fell slightly as I realized a pair of arms was around me, holding me tight and keeping me afloat. But in spite of that, I was still so, so lost. I tried to squint in the direction of the voice, hoping I'd be able to see him. "S. . .S-Sy?"

"Yeah, Spark, it's me, so will ya calm down?" There was still water in my eyes, so I couldn't see him, but I could tell from his tone that he was really, really shaken up. I'd probably scared the living daylights out of him. "Geez, if you keep squirming I won't be able to hold you up!"

Freak-out level: back up to a bajillion million thousand. My voice rose ten octaves as I cried, _"Don'tyoudareletmegoIcan'tswimwhenI'malltieduplikethis!!"_

"C-calm down, calm down!" Sy said again, his own voice cracking as he fumbled to keep a hold on me. "I won't let you go, I swear! Just calm down and hold still, I'll cut the tape!"

I'm not too fond of being helpless. It flat-out _sucks_, and I don't do well when I don't have a way to help myself. So I'm only gonna say this once: never, and I mean _never_, had I ever been so scared before in my life than when Sy momentarily loosened his hold so he could duck under the water and cut the bonds on my arms and legs. I almost lost my mind (and I think I kicked him, too), because if he let me go I'd just freak out so much I'd sink.

When his head broke the surface again and I was fully aware of my ability to move freely, I could've cried out in relief. I latched myself onto a startled Sy and just hugged him so tight.

"Sp-Spark, I-I can't. . .breathe. . .!" he choked out, and I lessened my hold only slightly.

"You saved my life," I said brokenly, my entire body shaking with the shock. "And you were right."

"Um. . .what?"

I hadn't really expected him to remember--in fact, _I'd_ only just remembered it a few seconds ago. Weeks before, right after Sy had turned up to help me and the flock escape from Con and the anti-flock, there'd been an. . .incident on a dock. Sy had momentarily lost control and tried to strangle me, and he'd said, _I think you _are_ that easy to kill_.

Quietly, I mumbled, "I _am _that easy to kill."

Sy was silent, but then I felt one of his hands rise from my back to hold the back of my head. I just barely heard his reply to my statement.

"No you're not, Spark. After all of this, you're still alive. I'd say you're _not _that easy to kill."

* * *

_Rrrrriiiiiiiippp!_

"Aaaaa-_aaaaahhhhhh!!_" I yelped, and Sy's hands backed off of my wings. "_Jesus_, Sy! That freaking _hurts!_"

"Sorry, sorry. . ."

After I'd calmed down some, Sy had helped me to swim to shore, a small and rocky stretch of beach at the bottom of a tall cliff. Then--since shore had been, like, a bazillion miles away--we'd fallen asleep for a good ten hours or something. (Thankfully, the beach was pretty much deserted. Not a single person had wandered near, so we were safe.)

And now, we were resolving the problem of the duct tape still sticking to various parts of my body.

_Rriiipp!_

"Ah-ha-hooo_oooww_!" I cried, my hands curling into fists that clawed at the sand. "I changed my mind, I wanna wait! Stop!"

As of late, I'm no stranger to pain. I mean, I've broken bones, I've gotten beaten into unconsciousness, I've been mind-tortured, and I've electrocuted myself a few times more than necessary, but oo de _lally_ does duct tape sting! It was like someone was pressing strips of hot metal to my wings.

"No, you wanted it off, so I'm taking it off," Sy said firmly, reaching around me to detach the tape from the front of my shirt. "Now stop being a baby and just be quiet!"

"You're mean," I sniffed, almost wanting to whimper. "I almost _died_, and _this_ is how you treat me?!"

Sy ignored me, placing his hand on my back. "Okay, this is the last of it. Brace yourself."

I hugged my knees to my chest and ducked my head, but it still hurt. I jumped nearly a foot, sure I'd felt some feathers rip free with the tape. _"Yyyeeeeeoooooowwww!!!"_

Sy winced, dropping the strip of duct tape to the ground. "I _told_ you to brace yourself."

"I. . .you. . ._You pulled out my feathers_!" I spluttered, grabbing up the crumpled duct tape and picking off the feathers still stuck to it. I threw them at the ground and groaned, dropping my head into my hands. "I probably look like a half-plucked turkey, don't I?"

"Sorry," he said, looking like he meant it as he leaned back against the cliffside. "But at least it's all off now. Right?"

We'd made a small camp in the shadow of the giant cliff, just beneath a sheltering ledge. Judging by the bright yellow sun in the clear blue sky, it was late morning. It hurt the eyes to look out at the sea, with the sun's rays bouncing off the traitorously calm water. Heat waves rose up off the dry, light-colored sand, making the ocean's waves dance more than usual.

It was a nice, calm, secluded little place, this little stretch of coastline. Too bad it couldn't last.

"Geeezzz," I moaned, ruffling my wings and creating mini-waves of pain. "I hate them on a whole freaking new level now. Duct tape _hurts_, man!"

"Well, it's not really meant for skin," Sy pointed out. I rolled my eyes and moved over to sit beside him. His lips quirked in a half-smile as I tried to lean back, only to jump back up in pain. "Or wings."

"Shut up," I said miserably, hunching forward and resting my chin on my knees. Sy seemed to hesitate, but then put his hand on my back, fingers rubbing soothing tracks around the rifts that connected my wings to my back.

After a long (but not awkward) silence, I asked, "How are Joey and Frankie?"

"Huh?" Sy's hand stopped on my back, then resumed as he realized what I'd said. "Oh. They're all right. They went back to Italy, but as far as I know they're okay. Nobody suspected we helped you escape."

"Thank God," I sighed, my eyes closing in relief. "I hate to think what would've happened to them if. . .if. . ." I stopped talking, my throat tight.

"The won't find out," Sy said quietly, reassuringly. "There's no way anybody'll ever know we helped you."

_Thank God for that,_ I thought to myself. _I doubt Itex takes to traitors very well._

"--ock is?"

"Huh?" I opened my eyes and straightened up a bit, glancing over my shoulder at Sy. "I'm sorry, what?"

He half-smiled, like he didn't mind that I'd zoned out. ('Nother reason I like that guy.) He repeated the question. "You know where the flock is?"

"Oh. No, I don't." Sy's hand dropped from my back again and I leaned back gingerly against the rocks, my wings not hurting so much now. His arm slipped around my shoulders and I leaned my head against him. "I was kidnapped without them around to see me," I explained. "I don't even know where they are now. If they were kidnapped, or if Con left them alone, or what."

"Oh."

Once you got used to the blinding glare, the ocean was very pretty. A very nice blue color, similar to Sy's eyes. . .

"Guess the last of that dye washed out, huh?" Sy asked absently, his finger twirling a strand of my hair.

"Wha?" I blinked out of my sleepy trance and reached up to inspect my hair. About a week and a half ago, the flock, Sy and I had gone into a Chicago beauty salon and obtained makeovers, complete with temporary hair dye. I vaguely remember noticing it washing out of everybody else's hair, but. . . "Huh. Whaddaya know." I glanced up at Sy and smirked. "And I see _your_ hair's all shiny and silver again."

Sy smiled. "Yeah, the black washed out pretty fast. I think it's 'cuz my hair can't hold color pigment. Like an albino person's."

I snickered, then sat up straight, stretching. "Well, enough of this sitting around."

"Huh?" Sy blinked, confused.

"We can't stay here forever. We should find a way off this beach, figure out where we are, and get back to where I was kidnapped. They're probably looking for me around there." By _they_ I meant Max and the flock. . .though that was probably a given.

Sy hesitated. "And, um. . .how do we do that?"

* * *

I couldn't help it. As I leaned into the turn, my shoe practically kissing the asphalt, I whooped in joy.

_"WOOOO!"_

Sy laughed. "Glad to see you're feeling better!" he yelled over the wind. I laughed too, and revved the motorcycle's engine, hunching forward as I streaked even faster down the deserted country road. I dimly heard Sy follow.

Yes, I said _motorcycle_. As it turned out, our little beach had been pretty close to a good-sized city. And, because Sy's the most awesome fish-boy around, he'd used the credit card he'd jacked from his mom to "acquire" us two rides from a gang of bikers. And that had just perked my day right up.

"You kiddin' me?!" I shouted when he pulled up beside me again. "This is the best thing ever!!"

Sy laughed again.

For the moment, life was good. I mean, yeah, I'd been separated from my flock, and yeah, I had a whole bunch of stuff to think through after my little incident with the anti-flock, but hey. I was with Sy, and I was riding a motorcycle (something I've been _dying_ to do since I was, like, eleven), and I didn't have any lasting injuries besides a bit of an aching throat.

That's life for ya. Full of ups and downs and the occasional loop-de-loop.

And since I'd gone both up and down in the past couple days, I should've known a loop-de-loop would be coming my way.

* * *

oh, don't be all surprised. of _course_ sy turns up to save her! it's his job!


	4. Chapter 4

geez. i read the newest book, _fang_, and. . .um. . .no offense to james patterson, but--no, you know what, scratch that. i _do_ mean offense. a little bit, anyway.

in my opinion, _fang_ was kinda disappointing. i think that patterson's writing (for max ride, at least) kinda peaked with _saving the world and other extreme sports_ and has just fallen from there.

but this is just my opinion. feel free to message me your thoughts, for i will be happy to hear if i'm the only one who thinks _fang_ was less than what all the hype led us to believe.

(and one last thing--between you and me, i think my dylan kicks his dylan's ass. raise your hand if you agree!)

disclaimer: don't own maximum ride.

* * *

_**4. a date with deStinY**_

_"This is a trap."_

Air hissed through my teeth as I jerked awake from my dream. That stupid, freaky, idiotic, meaningless goddamn _dream!_ I mean, Jesus _Christ_. Would I _ever_ free myself of this? Would I _ever_ make the right choice and choose Con over S--

"Spark?"

Oh, right.

The _real _Sy was _here_.

Greeeaaaatt.

I sat up, my eyes adjusting automatically to the dim light of the room. In one quick sweep, I took in every detail of the cheap room--the forest-green walls, the floral-patterned bedspreads and curtains. Blurry watercolor landscape hanging over the mini table in the corner. Large square television, black screen peeking out from behind the door of its cabinet in the entertainment unit.

And there, between the entertainment unit and the corner where the table was held, the door to the bathroom. The light was on inside, and leaning a dripping-wet head outside was Sy.

I blinked, and he must've took it for confusion. (Which it was.)

"Sorry if I woke you up," he apologized, flicking off the light and exiting the bathroom. He crossed the room in his bare feet to the second bed, sitting down on and towelling his hair dry. "I woke up around six and couldn't get back to sleep, so I took a shower and. . ."

And, to be honest, I was so distracted that I didn't hear a single word after that. Because upon his exit from the bathroom, I'd realized Sy was only wearing his pale blue jeans, his dark gray t-shirt tossed carelessly across his bed.

I mean, I'd seen guys without their shirts before--human guys. My friends from back home, and my brother and cousins. Even the guys of the flock, after one of the many mishaps with the anti-flock last week had resulted in Fang, Iggy, Max, and myself getting absolutely _drenched_ with Mississippi River water. But Sy just. . .I don't know. It was just _different,_ somehow.

Don't get me wrong. He wasn't bad-looking. Far from it. In fact, when comparing him to the other guys I'd seen, he looked the best--though I may be a bit biased in my opinion. Not as big or buff as some football players I knew, but. . .a cross between a track kid and a swimmer (and yes, I know how fitting that comparison is). Sy was very toned, with muscles that were only noticable if you were looking--and believe me, I was lookin'.

Oh, Lord. Why was I having this conversation with myself?

I realized Sy had stopped talking, and was looking at me expectantly.

"Uh. . .hm," I mumbled, hoping he hadn't said anything that needed a legitimate answer. I brought my hands up and pressed my palms to my eyes; when I pulled them away, my eyelids didn't feel so heavy anymore. "What time is it?"

"Quarter to seven," Sy replied as he pulled on his shirt. "And we got in around. . .eight-ish?"

"Geez." I swung my legs to the floor and stifled a yawn. "We slept that long?"

"Almost dark." After losing a match of rock-paper-scissors, I'd reluctantly agreed to Sy's idea of traveling at night--less cops to catch us speeding toward South Carolina that way. And less chances of us having a. . .well, _another_ "incident" with said cops. (See my first narrative for further information.) "If you take a quick shower we can be out by eight-thirty or something."

I should've just agreed and left. But nooo, I'm _me_, remember? I gotta have a witty reply to everything. I smirked at Sy as I stood, heading for the bathroom. "You think it takes me forty-five minutes to take a shower?" I asked cockily.

He shrugged. "To be honest, I really wouldn't know. I've never been around long enough to time you."

I tried to turn away, but he might've seen the smirk slide from my face. ". . .Right."

Last time the scene had included me, Sy, and a hotel room, it hadn't gone too well. 'Cuz first off, Iggy'd been shot, so Sy had had to heal him, which had freaked him out for some reason. After I asked him about it on the dock of a nearby lake, some. . .stuff had happened, and he'd almost ended up strangling me. Neither of us made it back to the room till the next morning.

I made it to the bathroom and shut the door, shuddering. That night hadn't been one of my favorites. . .the fact that his eyes could turn ruby-red instead of their usual sapphire-blue like that still haunted me. . .

* * *

"Oh, yeah, right!" I laughed as I left the room, my still-damp blond braid bouncing off my neck. It was about eight-oh-five at night, the lamps hanging outside the hotel rooms glowing dull gold in the darkness, throwing pools of light out onto the sidewalk in front of the parking lot. "You _so_ wouldn't do that!"

"I have before," Sy said back, shrugging as he pulled the door shut behind him. He swung the keyring to his bike around his finger a few times. "They dropped me in the tank with it to see if I could talk to it, and I ended up having to fight it off."

"Okay, then, let me amend my statement," I said, stopping on the edge of the sidewalk. Sy halted just beside me, smirking down at me with Con-like cockiness. "You so _couldn't_ do that. I mean, there's _no way_ you can take on a _shark_ in a _fight_! You'd lose!"

Sy clapped a hand to his chest. "Ah! My pride." I laughed again and he grinned. "But whether you believe me or not doesn't matter. We've got about a hundred and fifty miles to cover to even get close to Colombia, so we need to get going."

"A hundred and fifty miles, huh?" I echoed, strolling over to my black-with-electric-blue-lightning-streaks motorcycle, which had been parked just outside the door of the room. (In case you're interested, Sy's was navy blue. With flames.) I trailed my hand over the handlebars--it really was nice. A typical biker gang bike, similar to John Travolta's in that one movie, _Wild Hogs_.

"Ninety minutes seems much too short a time before I must part with my lovely motorcycle," I sighed theatrically. "Ah, well. I knew it couldn't last, it was just too perfect! And heaven forbid something nice should happen in my life!"

Sy rolled his eyes. "So you don't have anything good going for you, huh?"

Another dramatic outlet of breath. "No. . ."

"Bet I can prove you wrong." Sy suddenly smiled and recklessly pulled me into his arms. Happily surprised, I tilted my face up toward him and. . .

And then the world imploded.

My ears popped rather painfully as the force of the blast knocked me and Sy across the walkway and into the wall of the room. I cracked my head on the window pretty dang hard and saw stars for a moment, until I was dragged down to the ground, whereupon my eyes punked out on me and I went momentarily blind. There was a great, ear-splitting _ccrrassshhh!!_ and I felt shattered glass rain down on my head.

After a short, louder-than-silence silence, I became aware of Sy's arms still around me, of his voice in my ear.

I think he was saying something like, "Are you okay?"

I nodded, forcing my eyes open to take in the damage. I could see scorch marks on the asphalt from the explosion, mangled parts of the motorcycles scattered as far as the opposite end of the parking lot.

Sy got to his feet, pulling me along with him. For a second I swooned, my head feeling weirdly light. The bomb's (for that was no doubt what it'd been) _boom_ factor rattled my brain inside my head, jumbling up all of my thoughts as if they were newly-shuffled songs in one of those fancy new iPods.

I blinked and shook myself, glancing over the lot once again. Then, my voice automatically rising to make up for my semi-deafness, I said, "Huh. That blew up _real_ nice."

Sy looked at me in confusion. "What?"

"That blew up real nice."

_"Huh?"_

"Oh, for cryin'. . .I _said_, That blew up real _nice_!" He still looked confused, so I shook my head at him, unwilling to go through the pain of figuring out how long it takes to regain hearing after an explosion. I patted my pockets and pulled out a Swiss Army knife I'd acquired back in the last town we'd breezed through. Then I lifted my hand and used ASL to say, "Let's jack a car and get out of here."

(At least, that's what I _think_ I said. It was either that or "Lettuce Jack's Bar serves great beer.")

(I should probably brush up on my ASL.)

It took us teenage deviants about half an hour to find, hot-wire, and carjack a really nice, really excessive red Lamborghini from the driveway of a giant mansion. I'm pretty sure the guard dogs' barking woke up the owners of said mansion (if only I hadn't tripped over that bug), but by the time they got outside we were gone, only to leave behind a small note written in my best fake handwriting, all loopy and bubbly and doodled on with hearts and smiley-faces.

_Owe ya one (1) fancy-pants compensation-mobile! :) Bye!_

"We have a bad habit of stealing cars," I commented once we were screaming down the highway at speeds of almost ninety miles an hour. "This is what, three? Between the two of us?"

Thankfully, our hearing had returned about ten minutes after we'd run from the hotel parking lot, dodging police cars and news vans full of curious members of society we mutants usually try to avoid. So Sy didn't have any problems hearing what I'd said.

"If what you mean is cars we've stolen _together_, then yeah, three it is," he replied casually, as if the thought didn't bother him. And I don't think it did. "And if you count the bikes, it's technically five."

"As a matter of fact, I _don't _count those," I said airily, looking out the window at the night. The stars were really pretty and bright--I picked out both the Dippers clearly. "Those bikers freely relinquished their motorcycles into our possession."

"They were drunk."

"Yet happily accepted fifty bucks off their tab at that bar as payment. Not stolen."

Clearly, we didn't feel the least bit guilty about it. Perhaps we should take some ethics lessons. . .but where would the fun be in that?

Sy chuckled. "Whatever you say, Spark."

The two-hour ride to Columbia, South Carolina seemed shorter than it actually was--the time really flew as Sy and I just talked about stuff. Home stuff, flock stuff, Itex stuff, past stuff, future stuff, book stuff, movie stuff, random stuff. Stuff best friends talk about.

(. . .Saying "stuff" a lot makes you realize just how weird the word it is, huh? Stuff, stuff, stuff, stuff. . .)

We pulled into the city around ten-fifteen. Having spent the day sleeping, we were both wide awake, ready to roll on finding Dr. Martinez so we could contact the flock and let them know I was all right.

Except, well. . .

"I really have no idea," Sy admitted after I asked how we were supposed to find Max's mom. We'd pulled the Lamborghini into the parking lot of a church (familiar, much?) and were just hanging around, at a loss for what to do. "I thought _you'd _have a plan."

"Hm. So you want a plan, huh?" I put my hand to my chin and put on a look of puzzlement. "Vell, zere ees no sign of ze flock or ze flock leader's muzzer. Not zat zat ees surprising, for ve only arrived in ze city tventy minutes ago. Plus, Max did not tell me exactly vere ve vould be meeting zis muzzer of hers. So, visout anysing else to do. . ."

"Stop talking like that," Sy interrupted, but he was smiling.

". . .Our best option is to wander around Colombia in search of a giant 'Come See the Bird-Kids!' banner," I finished, switching over to plain ol' English as if Sy had never spoken. "I'm pretty sure Dr. M said we'd make an appearance or something. You cool with that?"

Sy shrugged. "Oh, why not. Better than my plan."

"I thought you didn't have one," I stated.

"Well, no," he confirmed. "Which is why yours is better."

"Ahh."

* * *

"Columbia's smaller than I thought," Sy commented as we strolled down another street.

"And yet we still haven't located any giant banners," I said. "_Triste_.*"

We'd ditched the Lamborghini back in a supermarket parking lot, after realizing it was rather flashy and conspicuous. It'd been useful the night before, when we'd gate-crashed some kind of party out of boredom, but in the daylight it was just too showy. So we were now touring Columbia by foot, currently in some kind of town square area.

"_C'est la vie,_" Sy told me. "_La vie est merde._"**

I snickered, then skipped ahead and twirled around, feeling weirdly upbeat despite a) having my super-special-awesome motorcycle bombed, 2) not having been able to take the fancy-pants Lamborghini on a joyride (Sy'd said our main objective was to get to Columbia in one piece), and lastly) not having any idea about where I was supposed to find my flock. Perhaps just being around Sy again had lifted my mood-o-meter.

"What are you doing?" Sy asked me tiredly. I glanced at him and grinned.

"Am I embarrassing you?" I inquired, twirling again and ignoring the looks of passerby. "Because if I am, then I'll stop. If I'm not, I'll have to start doing backflips while reciting Act Two, Scene Two from _Romeo and Juliet_ at you."

"Uhh. . .which one is that?"

I stopped walking and put a hand on my heart. "But soft, what light through yonder window breaks? It is the East, and Juliet is the sun!" I quoted, sweeping my arms out and bowing ridiculously at Sy. He rolled his eyes at me, fighting his smile. So, _of course_, I went on, determined in my quest to make him laugh.

"Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, who is already sick and pale with grief that thou, her maid, art far more fair than she," I said, gesturing up to the sky with a fist. Sy was biting his lip, shoulders shaking.

"Be not her maid since she is envious," I said. I allowed my voice to rise more and more as I went in for the big finish. "Her vestal livery is but sick and green, and none but fools do wear it! Cast it off! It is my lady! O, it is my love! O, that she knew she were!"

"Okay, okay, you can stop now!" Sy laughed, running forward to catch my arm as I lifted both arms to the sky and prepared to twirl about yet again. "I'm embarrassed now, okay? You don't have to do any backflips."

"Aww. And I so wanted to," I groaned sarcastically. "And I didn't even get to the 'Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?' part. Shame on you."

"Sorry, but I'd rather you not speak Shakespeare at me," he said casually, slipping his hand into mine. "Especially from one where they both die at the end."

"Well, _everybody_ dies in the end of life," I said, rolling my eyes with exaggerated impateince. "It's just up to us to decide on when, where, and how. Me, I'm planning to either be hit by a hot-air balloon or bitten by a rare and poisonous snake."

"Gotta go out with a bang, huh?"

"When have I not?" I turned my head to smile at Sy when I saw something else over his shoulder--a large electronic sign, the kind that have words constantly flashing about in big red letters. Like the ones they have in front of banks; only this one was at the foot of a tall office building, the kind that looks like it's completely constructed of mirrors and designed specifically to blind all those who try to look at it during the daytime.

The words on the sign said, _Coming Tomorrow: Winged Wonders! Visit Windsong Enterprises*** and Meet the Famous Bird-Children, Spokes-kids of Coalition to Stop the Madness!_

"Spark?" Sy looked down at me in puzzlement, saw me staring, and turned to look. "What're you. . .oh."

I blinked and shook myself. "Well. It's _not_ a giant banner."

"No," Sy agreed. "But on the other hand, I have a feeling it's a sign, possibly from God, telling us that this building, right here, right now, is exactly were we need to be."

"Oh, shut up," I interrupted, elbowing him. He laughed, and then we changed direction and started heading for the tall mirrored office building.

* * *

*triste (treesst) = sad

**c'est la vie. la vie est merde. (say la vee. la vee ay maird) = it's life. life is shit. (a quote of my friend's dad.)

***not a real place. . .i don't think.

oh, and a few things i forgot to mention:

previous chapter--spark was able to drown because the anti-flock had put duct tape around her neck, too. i deleted the original line (gills? duct-taped to my neck) in favor of a revised edition (and the falling into the sea would be more of a problem than you'd think, 'cuz, like, my gills were kinda duct-taped into oblivion) that somehow never got put in.

also: new poll on my profile. concerning the anti-flock. check it out.

and thirdly. . .um. . .happy (belated) st. patrick's day?


	5. Chapter 5

i apologize. i was on vacation--skiing, as usual for me during spring break. no computer access whatsoever. . .but i didn't mind, really, 'cuz skiing's awesome! closest to flying a human can ever get. i imagine.

disclaimer: don't own maximum ride.

* * *

_**5. i'm going slightly mad**_

'Kay. So, to be perfectly honest, I thought I'd just be able to walk into the Windsong Enterprises place, ask to see Dr. Valencia Martinez, tell her what happened, and send some kind of message to Max and the flock. After all, they'd probably try to find a computer and contact Dr. M anyway, so I could just email them and tell them I'm all right. Right?

Wrong. Because apparently, the Windsong Enterprises people are jerkfaces, and object quite strongly to two teenagers trying to enter their building.

"This seems kinda superfluous, don't you think?" I asked mildly, rattling the chain of the handcuff that had me tied to the chair. I didn't deem it necessary to mention that I could probably pick the lock, or possibly just break the darn thing. "I mean, I'm a perfectly innocent child. There's absolutely no reason why you should feel the need to handcuff me to a chair like this."

Sy disguised a snicker as a cough and I flicked my gaze over to him, grinning momentarily. He, too, was handcuffed to a chair in the office of the head security guard of W.E., and I could tell that, even though he was amused by my useless small talk, he was a bit annoyed that we were being detained like this. Ah well. I'd say sorry later. Probably.

"Seriously, though, Frank," I said, uncrossing my legs and leaning forward with an expression of dire sincerity on my face. "If I am who I say I am--and, believe me, I _am_--then do you _really_ think this stupid thing could keep me detained for long?"

The security guard, a tall, tree-like man with gray hair, glared at me from across his desk. He'd dialed the number of the conference room the bird-kids were supposed to be meeting in tomorrow, and supposedly they were "sending someone down" to "deal" with us.

"I've never seen you before," he said stonily, with just a trace of a Southern accent. "Not on T.V., not in the brochures the CSM guys have, not _nowhere_. And I was told not to let in nobody I didn't recognize."

I flinched internally at his use of double negatives--once an English nerd, always an English nerd. I understood where he was coming from--respected it, even--but really. I leaned back with a groan.

"Come _on_. I'll even show you my wings!" I said in exasperation. "The reason you haven't seen me with Max and the others before is because I only met up with them last month! Cut me some slack, man!"

There was a light knock on the door and Frank looked up; both Sy and I twisted in our seats as a gangly blond man entered the room. He was dressed pretty casually, just jeans and a plain white button-up shirt, but he was wearing a plastic red card on his breast pocket that read _CSM Representative, Shawn Hayes._

"Hey, Frank," he said, barely glancing at me and Sy before focusing on the head of security. I detected a distinct Australian accent. "Heard you caught a couple of kids tryin' to sneak into our meeting?"

"Oh, my. . ." I dropped my head into my hand.

"We weren't trying to sneak in!" Sy said, repeating what I'd been saying for the past half hour or so. "We're--well, _she's_ supposed to be here, she's one of the bird-kids. I'm more the hired help."

"Huh, and here I was just thinking you liked me," I said, rolling my eyes good-naturedly. "Just how am I _paying _you, exactly, Mr. Hired Help?"

Sy flashed me a mischievous half-smile. "Believe me, you pay my bills." Then he winked, none too subtly.

"Oh! Ooohhh, you did _not_. . .I can't _believe _you!!" I sputtered, too taken aback to even blush.

"Erm. . .right," Shawn Hayes said slowly. I stopped trying to think of some way to get Sy back for his little comment and looked at the CSM guy again. Almost automatically, I looked him up and down as if trying to gauge whether or not he was dangerous. He looked at me and I registered disbelief in his expressive pale blue eyes. He didn't _look_ suspicious, but then he did something I didn't expect--he pulled out a phone and snapped a picture of me.

"Hey, what was. . ." I tried to ask, but there was an almost instantaneous reply. Shawn Hayes ignored me, looked at his phone, then snapped it shut and dropped it back into his pocket.

"It's all right, Frank," he said, smiling. "Dr. Martinez recognized her picture. I'll take it from here."

"Yess!" I grinned in triumph as Frank reluctantly unlocked my handcuffs. "Told ya I wasn't lyin'!"

"She say anything about this one?" Frank asked gruffly, ignoring me and gesturing to Sy.

Shawn Hayes frowned. "Well, no. She didn't mention. . ."

"I'll mention!" I interrupted, raising my hand. Both Frank and Shawn Hayes looked at me and I tried to smile innocently. "He's with me. Dr. Martinez hasn't met him before, but the others have. They'll say so when they come by tomorrow. Promise."

Shawn Hayes blinked, then shrugged. "All right. The hired help comes too, then."

I rolled my eyes and heard Frank the security guard chuckle. But then we were out of the office, following Shawn Hayes across the fancy-pants lobby with its spotless black marble floor to the dull gold elevators. The CSM rep punched the up button before turning to me and Sy.

He raised an eyebrow and tried to smile in a friendly manner. "So? Could I ask for your names?"

_Oh, you_ could_, but that doesn't necessarily mean we would _answer_, now would. . ._ I shook my head to clear it of my knee-jerk response. "I'm. . .Spark." I'd thought briefly about giving a false name, but then saw no point. This guy was friends with Max's mom, who'd helped me out when my wing was hurt. "And this is Sy," I added, nodding my head at Sy.

"Huh," Shawn Hayes said as the elevator doors dinged open. We followed him inside as he said, "Those are odd names."

"Well, I'd tell you my real one, but then I'd have to. . .well, not _kill_ you, but find some way to threaten you into lifelong silence," I said, shrugging. Shawn Hayes looked at me funny and I grinned. "Kidding."

I saw the brief _oh_ before he smiled back. "Well, nice to meet you, Spark. And Sy," he added, acknowledging my fish boy with a nod. "My name's. . ."

"Wait, let me guess!" Sy interrupted, holding up his hand. He touched a finger to his temple and closed his eyes. "I'm getting. . .the letter 'S.' Sally? Sylvester? No. . ._Shawn_. And then an 'H,' too. . .Hollister. Wait! Hayes. Shawn Hayes."

The poor, dense CSM man blinked. "Wow, that was good! How'd you. . .?"

Sy smirked. "I read your nametag. Nice to meet you."

Shawn Hayes almost looked disappointed, and I rolled my eyes at Sy. "And here I was thinking you were nice to everybody."

"Yeah, well, I like you best."

I snickered as the elevator doors opened yet again to spill us out onto the tenth floor of the building. Shawn Hayes beckoned us with his hand and started leading the way down the quiet hallway, heading for the ajar door all the way down at the end.

I quickened my pace so as to walk beside him. "So. How's life?"

Shawn Hayes looked down at me skeptically, then shrugged. "All right, I guess. We've been here since yesterday waitin' for you and Val's daughter. And since she said you'd all agreed to do the tour in Australia, the meeting tomorrow's really just for hammering out details. Going over the route, scheduling breaks, payment. By the way, where _is_. . ."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait a second. We get _paid_?" I echoed. This was news to me. _The day just gets better and better, doesn't it? _I thought.

"Well, yeah. It's a really big favor you're doing us, attracting all the attention and whatknot, so it's only fair you deserve to get. . ."

"Shawn?" Wow--we'd reached the end of the hall faster than I'd thought. I came to a stop, Sy right beside me as the ajar door opened fully before us. Dr. Valencia Martinez, Max's mom, stood in the doorway, an expectant look on her face. Then her eyes fell on me and she smiled.

"Hello, Spark," she said warmly, stepping forward and offering her hand. I stepped up and shook it--she'd learned from our previous meeting that I do not like hugs. "It's so wonderful to see you again--and in one piece this time, too!" She laughed.

I half-laughed nervously, ignoring Sy's inquisitive look. Scratching the back of my head, I replied, "Nice to see you too, Dr. M." Then, before I could forget, I grabbed Sy's hand and dragged him forward. "And this is Sy, my friend. I hope it's okay that he's here."

"Uh, hi," Sy said awkwardly. But Dr. M--who is, by far, the coolest mom in the universe--just smiled and shook his hand.

"Hello, Sy. I'm Dr. Martinez, Max's mother. Do you know Max?"

"Uh, yeah, I do."

Dr. M's smile faded in the slightest. "By the way. . ." She turned to me. "Where _is_ Max? Why is it just the two of you here?"

I laughed nervously again. "Aha. . .um, about that. . ."

* * *

**From: Oh, Come On. Just Guess.**

**To: Fang! (Sorry. Can't Think Of Anything Funny. . .)**

**Date: 9/1/2008, 10:32 AM**

**Subject: I COMMAND THAT YOU READ ME AT ONCE!**

**hey, it worked.**

**good news! eau de obsessive blogger is in at target. and it's on sale.**

**and one other thing. hm, what was it. . .oh, yeah! 'tis me, spark, speaking to you from beyond the distance of shouting. and i'm okay, too. kidnapped by con, tossed in the ocean, yet somehow found the ability to manage an escape from death. the usu.**

**anyway, i'm already in columbia, with max's mom. and ella. and some australian csm guy with a really cool accent. he sounds like the geico gecko! haha.**

**but again, i'm fine. so just come by whenever the fancy strikes you. we'll be waiting on the edges of our seats until you arrive, whereupon max can feel free to kill me for causing her so much worry.**

**lotsa love!**

**~sparky**

It was dead silent for almost an entire minute after Avi finished reading the email aloud. She actually began to wonder if anybody would say anything at all, until. . .

"God. Damn. _IT!!!_"

Nearly everybody flinched as Con whirled away, slamming his fist into a wall and creating a sizeable dent. "God _damn _it!!" he yelled again.

They were--for once--in a hotel (Shadow had caught a cold, so Con had reluctantly allowed them to go into town so he could get a little better), in an average two-bed room. Swift had taken out the laptop to check Fang's blog and email account (he'd hacked the passwords long ago--if anything, they wanted the Cali group dead too) when he'd found the email from Spark. . .who was supposed to be dead.

Avi let out a tiny sigh, watching as Swift scrolled back up to read over the email again. His gray eyes, a subtly lighter shade than Con's, narrowed as they flew across the typed words. He was probably trying to guess if it really was from Spark. Meanwhile, Con fell into the other chair in the room, hunching over with his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. He'd been doing that more and more lately, and Avi wondered if he was going to lose it or not.

She was betting on him losing it.

Blaze rolled her eyes in annoyance before pushing herself up off the bed and crossing over to Con's chair. She kicked the leg of it lightly. "Okay, so the drowning plan didn't work," she said. "What now?"

Con didn't move. Almost reluctantly, Avi closed her eyes and tried to tap into his emotions.

She almost cringed by the swirling, confusing mass. Dark colors danced behind her eyelids, colors that made a person think of fury and anger and depression. Very quickly, Avi pulled away--nothing new to see anyway.

Blaze kicked Con's chair again. "Hey, Con. What now? Spark's alive, so we have to. . ."

"Just let me _think_ for a second, Blaze!" Con snapped, so forcefully Blaze's eyes flashed silver in anger. "God, you're so _annoying_."

Swift's eyes flicked up from the screen, and Avi looked at him. He raised an eyebrow in a silent question, but she shook her head. They could about it later, after everybody else fell asleep. (They'd taken to doing that--staying up to talk. Even if Avi did most of the talking, it was nice. It helped the two of them figure out all the confusing stuff Con and Blaze did these days.)

Shadow coughed and sniffled--he was still a little sick. "C-come on, Con, calm down. It isn't Blaze's fault, it's Spark's. She's the one who ended up living, it's. . ."

"Shut up, Shadow," Con said flippantly. "It's _our_ fault for having a stupid plan."

"It was a good plan, though," Shadow tried to protest. "There was no way she could've lived--"

"And yet there she is, emailing the Cali group about how she's still alive and kicking," Con interrupted, sitting up. "Swift, track back that email. Tell me where the hell she is so we can actually kill her for real this time."

Swift gave an almost inaudible sigh of annoyance, though his fingers were already working the keyboard of the laptop, tracing the IP address of the message. It'd probably take a few minutes, Avi knew.

In the meantime. . .

The clock on the wall ticked loudly. The uneasy tension that had appeared after their first encounter with Spark was so thick you could cut it with a knife. To Avi, it seemed to drag on forever.

To pass the time, she observed each of her fellow bird-kids.

Blaze looked. . .tight. Frustrated. Like, as if she was constantly trying to keep her temper down. As opposed to normal, when she just looked all cool and aloof. Her hair was lank and messy, the red streak not spiked up into its usual ridge along Blaze's head. It was very rare to look in her eyes and not see just a little bit of silver these days. Shadow--being sick--looked awful. He was pale and clammy and his hair was poofy and sticking up on one side, from having fallen asleep funny on the pillow. And Swift just looked kinda tired. His blond hair, almost exactly the same color as Spark's, was growing out some, so now it almost always hung in his eyes. Avi knew she--because she just felt so, so drained all the time now--had probably looked better as well.

And Con. . .

She'd never seen him look so uptight before. And when she looked at his eyes, it was like looking into two ferocious thunderstorms. Just so intimidating and intense and more than a little crazed. Over the past week or however long it'd been, they'd encountered Spark and the Cali group a good number of times--maybe a dozen or more. And each time, Con's self-control had seemed to unravel a little bit more. Avi shuddered, remembering how he'd shot at her the other night. He'd never looked so insane. . .

"What's _taking_ so long?" Con demanded suddenly, looking up and glaring over at Swift. The hawk-footed boy's fingers hovered over the keyboard as Swift glared right back at Con. Avi noticed that--once again--Swift looked irritated.

"Con, you know it takes a while to track an email," Avi began, but then she unintentionally flinched as Con slammed his fist into the wall again.

"I don't care if it takes a while! I need to know where she is!" he spat.

Swift rolled his eyes and resumed the tracking of the email. Avi let out a breath, deciding to just give up on trying to reason with him. Shadow just remained silent, sniffing every once in a while.

Blaze, on the other wing. . .

Her hands clenched into fists, and soon enough her knuckles began to smoke. "Con?" she said tightly. "Can I talk to you for a second? On the balcony?"

"No." Con leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes--he, like everybody else, looked drained. "Leave me alone."

Blaze's eye twitched, and Swift and Avi looked at each other. She was mad.

"Con? Balcony. _Now_."

Con's hands turned into fists as well, though he kept his eyes closed. "Don't _tell _me what to _do_."

_Here it comes,_ Avi thought dully, and braced herself.

"I'll tell ya all I _wanna_ tell ya!" Blaze yelled, kicking Con's chair a third time. This time she kicked it so violently that one of the legs broke, forcing Con to stand up before he could fall. Blaze was instantly on him, grabbing the collar of his jacket and dragging him none-too-gently toward the sliding glass door. "Balcony! _NOW!_"

Even Swift winced as the door slammed shut. He momentarily stopped typing and Avi could hear Blaze yelling at Con--no comprehensible words, but that was just because they were on the other side of the glass door.

Shadow chuckled weakly. "I haven't seen Blaze get mad at him like that for a while," he said raspily, and then broke out into another bout of coughing.

Avi frowned at him. "You should try to rest. Con'll make us leave tomorrow if you're better or not, so you should try for the better."

Surprisingly, the little boy didn't argue. He just nodded and huddled back down under the covers. Within two minutes he was asleep, and that's when Swift tapped his fingers on the table.

Avi looked up. Swift had turned the computer screen toward her, so she leaned in to take a look--she was looking at a Google Earth image, focused on a section of ciry. A little white circle blinked, with the words _sent location_ flashing over it.

"So, Spark's in. . .Columbia?" Avi said, glancing to the address in the side bar. "Huh. How'd she get there so fast? Missouri's kinda far away, isn't--"

Swift shook his head and tapped the computer screen. Avi looked again.

"Oh. South Carolina." Avi half-smiled at her own stupidity. Swift turned the computer back and started working on something else, until Avi asked, "So, what d'you think Blaze is so mad about?"

Swift shrugged a shoulder.

"Maybe 'cuz Con's been acting so weird lately," Avi said, far too used to the one-sided conversations to be bothered with Swift's unresponsive shrug. "I mean, he's been kinda crazy, y'know? Yelling at us and not sleeping well and. . .and shooting at me." Avi frowned, supressing another shiver. "I'm a little worried. Do you have any idea what's up with him?"

"Could be that dream," Swift said quietly.

"Huh? Con's been having a dream?" Avi asked. She glanced outside to be sure Con and Blaze wouldn't be coming in anytime soon--Con was yelling at Blaze now, so she guessed they'd still be out there for a while.

Swift nodded. "Yeah. Something about Spark. Heard him talkin' in his sleep."

". . .Huh." Avi sat down on the edge of Shadow's bed, which was nearest to the table Swift was sitting at. "I wonder what _that's _about." Con, having dreams about Spark? Were they just fantasies of him finally killing her? Or old memories from when she was still on their side? Or was it something totally different?

Swift tapped the table again, and Avi turned to the computer screen again. This time, it was a website, with the words _Coalition to Stop the Madness_ splayed in bright letters across the top. From what she could see, the main ad on the page was an announcement that the flock--Max, Fang, and the others, including Spark--were to go to a meeting sometime the next day, about a tour to Australia.

"Coalition to Stop the Madness?" Avi read. "What's. . .oh! That must be that CSM thing Spark mentioned about that guy in the email!"

Swift nodded again. Then he jerked a thumb over his shoulder, gesturing to the sliding glass door. "Wanna tell 'em?"

Avi made a face, and Swift almost smiled. Reluctantly, she got up and crossed the room, slowly opening the door and poking her head out onto the balcony.

"--uffer, okay? She's just been putting us through so much shit!" Con was saying.

Avi guessed they were talking about Spark.

"U-uh. . .hey, Con?" she said loudly, before Blaze could reply. Both elder bird-kids turned to look at her--Con almost glaring, Blaze just kinda blank.

"What?" Con demanded.

"S-Swift tracked down where Spark sent the email from. Some office building in Columbia, South Carolina. And we Googled CSM, to figure out what she meant when she said 'some CSM guy,' and it's some group that was co-founded by Valencia Martinez," Avi said quickly, trying to remember anything else she'd seen on the web page.

Con and Blaze glanced at each other. Blaze said, "Martinez is Ride's mom, right?"

Avi nodded. "Yeah. Anyway, their site's all about how the bird kids are talking about going to Australia to tour or something. They're going to have a meeting with the CSM people tomorrow, and that's all we found so far."

Blaze looked at Con, but he was staring absently at Avi's hand, which was resting on the handle of the glass door.

Then, slowly but surely, he began to smile. Avi sensed that--for the first time in a long, long time--Con felt. . .well, almost _happy_.

"Hey, Blaze," he finally said.

"Yeah?" she asked warily.

Con turned toward her and flashed her an evil, cocky smile. Blaze blinked, as if startled, but smirked in return as Con asked:

"Feel like a trip to the Down Under?"

* * *

again, sorry it took so long to get this up. as i said, i was on vacation. plus, this story is turning out to be a little harder to come up with. . .i'll try to keep the updates more consistent in the future, but no promises. . .


	6. Chapter 6

hopefully, after this chapter (or the next one), my updating will get more frequent. more exciting stuff happens, and it'll be easier (and more fun) to write. so just hang in there. i'm trying my best.

disclaimer: don't own maximum ride.

* * *

_**6. meet you there**_

Ariel consulted her map of Washington, D.C. and slowed to a stop in the airport. Three kids--two girls, one boy, all around thirteen and fourteen years of age--halted just behind her. Ariel said nothing to them, studying the map, so they began to chat with each other.

"Did she tell either of you why we're here?" one of the girls, an African-American thirteen-year-old, asked the other two. Her name was Aliza. She had wavy black hair that was pulled up into a high ponytail, and her green eyes flicked to Ariel's back to see if she was listening.

"Not me," said the other girl, also thirteen; she went by the name of Nixie. Her straight bright green hair fell just around her shoulders, and attracted lots of looks from passerby. "Then again, she doesn't tell me anything. She probably doesn't like me, but then again, I don't like her, either. . ."

Aliza ignored Nixie as she spiraled off on a mumbled tangent. She turned to the boy, fourteen-year-old Arthur. "What about you, Arthur?"

He shrugged, reaching up to brush some overlong auburn bangs out of his pale blue eyes. "I don't know. She doesn't tell us anything, either. Not since she caught us putting back some movies we borrowed."

"Ha, ha. . .I guess not," Aliza laughed, scratching the back of her head. She glanced around. "Hey. . .where _is_ Aqua, anyway?"

The three of them looked around for Arthur's twin sister, soon spotting her in the doorway of a gift shop a way back, leafing through some kind of book. Even though she was a girl, Aqua looked a lot like Arthur--only her hair was longer, and up in a ponytail that had been pulled through the back of the black baseball cap she usually wore.

Arthur sighed, running a hand through his hair. "She's so absent-minded. If we hadn't stopped she'd've gotten left behind."

"Heeeyy! Aqua!" Aliza called, waving her hand in the air. "Ya better get over here before Ariel gets pissed!"

The girl at the gift shop jumped and looked up. She saw how far ahead they were, put her book down, and ran to catch up.

"Sorry, guys," she apologized as she drew near. She smiled. "I just saw the newest volume of _Host Club_* and was looking at it, and I guess I just got caught up in it or something. What'd I miss?"

"Not much," Arthur said.

"Just that none of us know why Ariel dragged us here," Nixie added.

"Ahh." Aqua closed her pale blue eyes and sighed, folding her hands behind her head. "Man, why _did_ she bring us here? Not only was the flight boring, but I thought Sy was supposed to be here, too."

"Yeah, I know," Aliza said, frowning. "We haven't seen him in weeks. But didn't Ariel see him in Chicago? With that bird girl?"

"I think so," Aqua replied. "What was that about? I thought she only went there for observation tests. Like how they sent Wave and Kyles to Italy with those cat guys."

"I'm pretty sure all the bird kids turned up," Nixie supplied. "In Chicago. And, like, they were gonna kill half of 'em. But they got away. And Avi and her group went after 'em, but they haven't reported back in a week."

"Huh." The four younger fish hybrids fell quiet for a bit, until Ariel finally turned around to face them.

The elder girl's ruby-red eyes flicked over them, doing a quick count to make sure they were all there. "Okay. First thing--"

"Why are we here?" Aqua asked bluntly, not flinching when Ariel's eyes narrowed at her in a glare.

"There's a meeting we're supposed to go to," Ariel said tightly. "So first thing we have to do is get our stuff and find the driver the Director sent to pick us up."

"The Director?" Aliza echoed. "What's she doing here? I thought she was in Yemen."

"The birdbrains are getting annoying," Ariel said flippantly. "She wanted to deal with them herself."

". . .So she called _us_," Nixie said slowly. "What, she wants us to kidnap 'em for her or something?"

Ariel smirked.

"Yes. We're supposed to kidnap them. _Or something_."

* * *

The van jerked to a halt outside the indescript office building in Washington, D.C., its seatbelts locking and cutting into the chests of six Italian children ranging from the ages of seven to sixteen. The youngest, Tony, got so mad he hissed like an angry cat and slashed at his seatbelt. Literally _slashed_, with thick black claws that had suddenly sprung out of his fingertips.

"Yo, watch it!" a twelve-year-old snapped, leaning forward and cuffing the back of Tony's head. His name was Lenny. "This's a ren'al, we're gonna hafta pay for that!"

"Ah, lay off me!" Tony growled, eyes flashing. "I don't care if we gotta pay, we're gonna be rich soon anyways. Right, Joey?"

Joey stopped sizing up the building and looked back to the interior of the van. He was in the passenger-side bucket seat, with Tony to his left. Behind him, in the back row of seats, was Frankie, Lenny, and the fifth of their pride, fourteen-year-old Eugene, stuck in between. In the front seat, chattering happily at the driver, was Molly, Eugene's ten-year-old sister.

If anybody saw the five boys and the girl together, they'd assume they were all brothers and sister, or at least cousins. They just had a look about them. . .sturdy frames that promised strength, straight-planed faces, large square hands (except Molly--she was thinner and daintier, but wiry). It came with their feline DNA, he guessed. The dark hair and eyes came from their human side.

"Uh. . .hope so," he said, finally responding to Tony's question. He gave the kid a reassuring smile. "That's what the Director said, right?"

"Yeah!" Tony agreed, fiercely determined. "As long as we get them bird kids, we're gonna be rich! I'll hit 'em so hard they won't know _what_ happened!"

Lenny rolled his eyes. "Yeah, like _you'll_ get 'em. Bet I knock out more'n you do!"

"Guys, stop fighting," Frankie said quickly, before Tony's infamously short fuse could burn up. "It won't be about how many anybody takes out. We have to go to this stupid meeting thing first, remember?"

"Yeah," Joey confirmed, unbuckling his seat belt and opening his door. "So come on, Dad would be pissed if he heard we were late."

The felinthropes piled out of the van, which promptly pulled away. Frankie started herding the others toward the building, though Joey and Molly hung back.

"What'd you get out of the driver?" he asked the girl quietly.

"Not much," she replied, flipping a dark curl out of her face. "He was probably just a temp or something. But he _did_ say he had to go to the airport next, to pick up 'the others.' " She raised her hands to signify air quotes.

"Others?" Joey said sharply. "Who else is coming?"

"Not Swift's friends, I don't think," Molly said, thinking about it. "I heard those two fish girls talking the other night, and they haven't reported back to their guy in a week or something."

Joey nodded--the fish girls, Kyla and Wave, were "on loan" to Italy's Itex branch just as he and Frankie had been "on loan" to Chicago's last week. They'd probably heard back from Ariel about it.

"Hey, Joey?"

"What?" Joey blinked and looked back down at Molly, who was frowning slightly.

"Why's the Director paying us to kidnap the bird kids?" she asked. "And why are we doing it? I thought you helped that Spark girl _escape_. Why would you put her back?"

"How did you. . .? You know what, never mind." Molly had sensitive hearing, better than the rest of them, so he shouldn't've been surprised she'd overheard him and Frankie talking about what'd happened in Chicago. "Frankie and I _did_ help her escape. However, if we _don't_ go to this thing, it'll make us look bad. Plus, Dad would be mad. So I'm thinking we should just sniff around and see what's up, get me?"

"Oh." Molly's frown disappeared, replaced by a bright smile. "Okay. I don't want Dad to get mad, either."

"Good girl." Joey smiled back and winked. "Don't tell the others and keep your ears up, 'kay?"

"Okay."

"Joey! Molly! Come on, you're slowin' us down!!" Frankie yelled, holding open the door of the building where they were to have their meeting.

"We're coming!" Joey shouted. He grabbed Molly's hand and the two of them ran to catch up.

* * *

"Well. Color me impressed. And blue, with a purple zigzag." I leaned back in my chair and crossed my legs as Shawn Hayes finished outlining the CSM air-show tour route in Australia. We'd be hitting some pretty major cities while Down Under, starting off in Sydney. Hopefully, it was far enough away so that Itex couldn't get at us all that quickly.

Unless, like, the U.S. Itex contacted the Aussie Itex and they set up a plan.

Wouldn't surprise me.

I let out a tiny sigh. Once upon a time, my life had just been, _go to school, don't tell anybody about your wings, live like a kid._ And now it was more like, _hm, how can I not get killed today?_

I snuck a glance at Sy, sitting across from me at the table where Shawn and Dr. M had spread out the map of Australia and the CSM leaflets and stuff. He was observing the map, and not for the first time I wondered what was going to happen with him. Because, well. . .

a) Sy could not fly. Because he's a fish.

i) Therefore, he cannot participate in the air shows.

ii) Also, in case we must make a run for it, he will be stuck on the ground. Unless, like, there's a river nearby.

b) Most of the flock didn't really know what to think of him.

i) Because he'd "betrayed" them in Chicago by helping Con and the others kidnap them.

ii) So when they got here (which they'd be doing in, oh, half an hour or so--they'd emailed back barely two hours after I'd sent my own message), I'd have a lot of explaining to do.

a) And by the way, I hate explaining.

c) His plan to free other mutants would be on hold if he came with us.

i) Though, if Joey and Frankie had already returned to Italy, it may already be on hold.

ii) However, I don't want to jeopardize that and otherwise ruin the lives of any free-spirited hybrids.

And I could go on. Don't worry, though, 'cuz I won't. If I were reading this I'd be getting kinda bored. So, I shall skip ahead about an hour or so, when Dr. M, Shawn Hayes, Sy, and I were all up on the roof of Windsong Enterprises, awaiting the flock's arrival.

"See 'em yet?" Sy asked boredly, leaning against the roof's ledge. I glanced at him and saw he was absentmindedly twirling a pen between his fingers.

"Not yet," I said, still watching his hand. Last time he'd been fiddling with pen like that had been after he'd healed Iggy of a gunshot wound. I frowned--something big was on his mind.

"Is that them?" Shawn Hayes asked, pointing up in the sky.

I turned, taking a deep breath. When I opened my eyes, the little black dots the Australian had pointed out seemed just three feet away.

(Super-zoom. Gotta love it.)

"Those are pidgeons," I said tiredly, blinking. My vision returned to normal with a slight throb of my temples.

We'd been out here half an hour already, though it'd been after ten minutes that I'd started to search with my hawk eyes. I figured if I practiced, the side effects wouldn't be as bad. Downside, however, was that I'd already puked twice, and my sleeve was stained with blood from my nose, so it actually seemed to be worse. (The others didn't know about the side effects of my ability--I'd taken "bathroom" breaks both times I'd gotten sick.)

"Oh." Shawn Hayes laughed nervously. "Sorry. My eyes aren't the best, and I guess I'm just excited to meet them."

"Nah, it's all right." I folded my arms on the edge of the roof just beside Sy and rested my chin on my arms. I closed my eyes, breathing deeply to rid myself of the sudden wave of nausea. There was a light breeze up this high, and it felt really refreshing. "Don't. . .worry about it."

I felt Sy's eyes on me, and sure enough, he asked, "You okay?"

"Fine," I replied, but I doubt he believed me.

". . .Hey."

I opened my eyes and straightened up. Sy was watching me, his expression a little. . .off. Like, half concerned, but half something else.

I raised an eyebrow at him. "What?"

"What're you gonna say to them? About me, I mean?"

"Oh." I looked to the street, hundreds of feet below. Cars zipped along during the mid-day rush, dozens of dark, dull colors to match the dark, dull colors of the streets and buildings in Columbia. "Um, I don't really know. I'd started to tell Max the truth a few days ago, but then I was kidnapped, so I'm not sure what she thin--"

"Is _that_ them?" Shawn Hayes said again. I rolled my eyes in slight annoyance, but then Dr. Martinez said, "Well, they don't _look_ like normal birds. . ."

I closed my eyes briefly, then opened them again. You know how a digital camera zooms in and out really fast when it's trying to focus on something that's moving really fast while really far away? Well, that's what my eyes did as they tried to lock on to the seven moving figures a few thousand feet above us. Zoom in on the winged kid in dark clothes, focus, zoom out and zoom back in on the winged dog with black fur. I did this for each member of the flock: zoom in, focus, zoom out. By the time I'd identified Iggy I was getting dizzy.

"Y-yeah," I said, blinking and shaking my head. I swayed and put a hand to my head, trying to get the rooftop to stop spinning. "Th-that's them. . .mm." I looked down and stood very, very still as I waited for the pain in my head to seep away.

Sy's light, gentle hand touched my back. "If using that ability makes you sick, then why are you doing it?" he asked. His tone implyed that he was disbelieving of my stupidity.

"Because I like to be sick?" I tried to say, weakly sarcastic. "I thought it'd get better if I practiced."

"Come on," Sy said quietly, putting his arm around my shoulders. "I think Shawn and Max's mom can wave down the flock. You need to sit down."

"Stop worrying about me," I mumbled, though it was halfhearted. I _did_ need to sit down--I felt ready to throw up again.

Damn side effects.

We'd just made it to the door of the stairs when I heard a rush of footsteps. I tried to turn, but wasn't quick enough--suddenly, Sy was gone from my side, and I was being pushed through the doorway. I nearly fell down the stairs as the door slammed behind me. I whirled around and heard a _thunk!_ from the other side of the door.

_"Ow!"_ Sy yelled. "Jesus! What the _hell_?!"

"Where d'you think you're taking her?" I heard a second voice snarl. It. . .almost sounded like Iggy.

"She's sick! I was just. . ." Sy was cut off by a _thwam!_ "Watch it!"

"What are you doing here? I thought I kicked your ass back at the Factory!"

Yep, that was Iggy. I ran up to the door and tried the doorknob, but the door wouldn't move. I think what happened was the flock landed, saw Sy leading me away, and reacted--Iggy must've gotten to us first, and had pushed me through to the stairs before pinning Sy to the door. And--judging by the sound--he'd probably punched him, too.

I'd told the flock Sy had betrayed us, remember. He and I had agreed that was best for now--if we were ever captured again, he would again be in a better position to help us out. When the flock and I had exchanged stories about our separate kidnappings to the Factory, I'd had to say Sy had been on Con's side from the beginning. So--of course--they held very strong feelings of negativity now. Only Max knew he wasn't actually evil.

Oh, boy. What fun I will have explaining this mess. . .

* * *

_"Goin' fast makes me feel alive, my heartbeat's in hyperdrive! Do you think you can win, only if I lose! Just let, des-tin-y choose!"_**

"Who's phone was that?"

Kendra's hand flew to her pocket to hit the silencer on her cell phone. _Damn, I thought I turned it to vibrate!_

Nobody answered the teacher, but his eyes flicked to Kenny anyway. He smirked. "Don't think I saw you jump, Kendra."

She cursed Mr. Bentson mentally--the Physics/AP Bio teacher usually picked on her, and although most times she didn't mind, she'd been having a hard time lately. Nearly every day someone else would come up to her and ask why her sister wasn't in school, and every day she'd have to feed them that same lie her dad had come up with: Nikki was spending some time with family in Illinois, where she could take some classes at the Columbia College of Chicago.

Hardly anybody questioned it extensively--Nikki had lettered in nearly all her academics last year, and it'd a _lot_ of begging by both Science Olympiad and Knowledge Bowl to get her to compete for the school.

"What song is that? It's catchy." Mr. Bentson persisted, still watching Kendra. A few of her friends in the class giggled at the face she made.

"It's called Hyperdrive," she mumbled. _And that means it's Cody or Beck. What do they want? _"So let's get on with the lesson. I'm just _so_ interested in what you have to teach us!!"

The students laughed as Bentson rolled his eyes. "No you're not," he said teasingly. "And you know, I really should confiscate that."

"Mr. _Bentson_," Kendra groaned. "It's just one of my cousins! It's probably not even important!"

"Oooh, your cousin, huh? What'd he say?"

**dude get to a computer and google csm coalition to stop the madness**

"Umm. . .he found somebody who can give him a tattoo without needing permission from his parents," she invented quickly. (Though, technically, both Cody and Beck _did_ have tattoos. . .the same one Nikki had on her hip. Kenny had been so jealous when she saw it.) "He's wondering whether or not he should do it."

"Peachy. Well, when he replies, I'm sure we'd all _love_ to know," Mr. Bentson said sarcastically. The class giggled again. "However, we really should get back to this lesson. . .though because you distracted me I lost my train of thought. Uhhh. . ."

Amid the laughs, Kenny turned her phone to silent and set it down behind her purse, just out of sight. She opened her Internet connection and when she got to Google, she punched in _csm_. Service in that particular classroom wasn't very good, so it took a while, but when it finally loaded, she touched the first hit--the Coalition to Stop the Madness website.

She tapped her foot impatiently as it loaded. _Why does Beck want me to see this? Some eco-friendly protest group isn't something I give a shit abou--_

Her eyes went wide as she saw the photo taking up the page. It featured two adults, seven kids grouped between them, and. . .

_One of them was Nikki._

Tears sprang to Kenny's eyes as she zoomed in on her sister. She looked just the same as she had a month ago, when she'd knocked Kenny into that rack of lip liner in Dominick's. Dirty-blond hair and brown eyes identical to their brother's, tall, skinny, pretty even without any make-up. She was holding a little black dog, like Toto from _Wizard of Oz_, and she was smiling.

Though. . .Kenny frowned, her throat tight. Nikki's hair was shorter than it'd been before, and lighter. Plus, there was a scar under her right eye, like she'd been cut. Badly.

The image disappeared as the words _New Txt Msg: Beckers_ flashed across the phone's screen. She touched _View Now_.

**foot tell your parents**

Kenny frowned, and another message came a few seconds later.

**sorry i meant dont**

She closed the text and looked at the picture of her sister for just a little bit longer. There was a caption beneath the picture, but all it said was _Valencia Martinez and Shawn Hayes with Max and The Flock, Yesterday at Windsong Enterprises in Columbia, South Carolina._

She didn't know who Max was, or what The Flock was, either. She went back to Beck's text and replied.

**thats nikki!! how the hell can i not tell mom&dad?!?!**

Kendra glanced up to check Mr. Bentson's position--he was still across the room, writing out notes on the whiteboard. She looked back down to the phone.

**just dont she doesnt want you guys to worry**

**then y the hell did you tell me?! how do u kno?!**

**we saw her last week...she was here. but taj found it online and showed us i thought you might want to know shes okay at least...**

**well i do but y is she in south carolina? she couldve calledd!**

**shes got stuff to do**

**what stuff?**

**dont know she didnt tell us. but its something big those other kids in the pic are like her**

Best to play dumb. They hadn't _officially _told anybody about Nikki's wings, but then again, she and the twins were close. . .she simply asked, **wat do u mean**

**you know what i mean**

Kenny frowned slightly. **she told u?**

**we figured it out years ago so did taj**

How did _Taj_ find out? The twins, she could kind of understand, but their stupid gang leader, too? What the hell?!

**...oh**

**yeah. but anyway i have to go remember dont tell your parents about nikki. i wasnt even supposed to tell you**

**.....ok. call or txt me l8r i want to know what nikki was doing with u guys!!!**

**maybe but ill ask code hes probably gonna be mad i texted you :P**

**whatever u have to tell me!!!**

**well see. have to go now bye**

Kenny didn't bother replying; she just placed the cell phone inside her purse with a slightly shaking hand. Briefly, as she tried (and failed) to focus on her notes, she wondered which was worse--not knowing where her sister was, or if she was safe, or if she was even alive; or learning from a secondary source that she was all of those things all the way across the country, with strange kids like her.

She almost wanted to say it was worse knowing. Because before, she'd thought that when Nikki was safe again, and on her way, she'd call home. But now. . .she was knowingly skipping school, staying away from home, and doing God-knew-what! _Without letting her family know what she was up to!_

Kenny's fist clenched so hard her pencil lead broke, and the kid next to her looked up. She ignored him, all of the worry and fear that had been simmering beneath her other emotions for the past four weeks finally disappearing.

In their place bubbled a newfound rage.

Through it, though, Kenny smirked.

_Just how annoying can little sisters get?_

* * *

*ouran high school host club is an awesome manga by bisco hatori. it's silly but fun, and is one of my favorites.

**points if you know which show this is the theme song of. go on, guess.

oh, and thanks to Surreptitiously Anonymous and WingedValkyrie for giving me aliza and nixie, respectively.

all the other new characters are mine, though. my OC creator went into overdrive the other day to come up with the "pride" of cat-kids and the "school" of fish-kids. haha. animal jokes. . .

but yes. long chapter, with lots of stuff going on. some new characters, some old characters, and even a check-in back home with spark's beloved sister kenny.

hope ya liked it!


	7. Chapter 7

if the last chapter seemed boring, it's because it was. sorry about that. . .

disclaimer: don't own maximum ride

* * *

_**7. these dreams**_

It took a bit of creative story-telling to convince the flock that Sy wasn't a bad guy. (In other words: I lied a little. Said stuff like Sy had visited me while I was contained, and helped me through it.) It took even more nagging to get Iggy to apologize for punching him (though his nose wasn't broken, he'd have a wicked bruise), but we all got to where we needed to be in the end.

And so it was only an hour after their arrival that the flock was down in the conference room with me, Sy, Max's mom, Shawn Hayes, and a few other suits who'd decided to show up--the little American flags on their lapels and the strict air about them told me they were probably important people from some three-letter acronym programs. CIA, FBI. EPA. Something like that.

(Or maybe--gasp--they were from a six-letter organization. STUPID, the Society of Terribly Under-Privileged Idiot. . .Ducks. Or something else that starts with D.)

However, as fate would have it, I ended up missing most of the meeting anyway. My extensive use of the hawk eyes caught up to me and I conked out halfway through the first suit's opening statement.

* * *

But guess what? After I passed out, I started having a crazy dream!

Don't get too excited, though. I'm not going to take you on a magical adventure through Narnia as I battle Voldemort, some Orcs, and their evil Volturi accomplices while riding Saphira the dragon and using an arsenal of acorns as weapons. (Believe me, you don't really _want_ to see that, either. It gets pretty weird. Especially when we somehow get to the beach and Jacky Faber is blasting bronze cannonballs at my army of Snow Leopards and Wolf-folk so she can turn us into angel dust. Because then Jace Wayland and Scathach the Shadow drop in and it just _all _goes to hell.)*

But nah, nothin' of that sort tonight. Just my usual shadow-world-or-deceptive-sunny-life choice.

Ever since I'd first had the dream, it'd been annoyingly recurring, with me choosing the window over Con every single time. Even though I knew what was going to happen. I could never do anything to stop it, because apparently (according to dream-Con) I'd used up my only chance.

Anyway, there I was, standing on the precipice of doom, looking back and forth between Con--who still hovered just out of reach--and everybody I loved--all of who (or is it whom?) pranced about oh-so-gaily just outside the window.

My feet automatically turned toward the trap. I tried to resist, I really did, but it was like dream-Sy had lassoed me with an invisible wire and was just reeling me in. I fought with all my might, kicking and screaming and trying to hang onto doorways, even calling out to Con for help.

He just crossed his arms and lifted his chin. "I can't help you, Spark. You have to help yourself."

"Oh, God, thanks a lot!" I yelled at him as I clung to the doorway of my bedroom. My frustration seemed to fuel my strength, because somehow, for the first time, I managed to tug myself away. It was like standardized testing--slow and painful.

"Spark, what are you doing?" dream-Sy laughed, and I made the mistake of looking back. Just _looking_ at him made me falter. I blanched and felt the pull to join him grow. "Get back here. Nothing bad's gonna happen to you. I promise."

Behind me, Con groaned loudly. "Oh, my God, you're not _that_ pathetic, are you?" he asked. "Come on. Just trust me."

I tore my eyes away from Sy and looked toward Con. He looked frustrated, annoyed. Like he was tired of my ditching him night after night, but also like he knew I was hopeless.

At that thought I got angry all over again. I was _not_ hopeless. I _would_ prove him wrong. Gritting my teeth and tightening my death grip on the doorway, I tried with all my might to break the spell that seemed to drag me toward the window like a magnet to a refrigerator. With one final push, I tried to fling myself free of the pull.

And, amazingly, I broke through.

I reeled forward, and behind me I heard an unearthly screech, like nails across a blackboard, or bird talons across the roof of a rusty old car. (And yes, I know what that second one sounds like. Note to self: never drive slow enough so that Swift can land on your car. It's not pleasant.)

I glanced back and saw the world of faux sunshine and daisies burst into flames. Soon I was standing alone on barely four feet of floating hallway, with only one choice left.

"See what I mean?" Con said from behind me, his voice almost unbearably smug. "It was a trap."

My eye twitched just before my mouth twisted into a snarl. "Oh, _really_?" I spat acidly. "That's just _amazing_ to know, now isn't it? I mean, it's not like you didn't warn me! But I'm stupid! So let's all have a great giant laugh at my idiocy!"

Con smirked. "Well, I would, but we have stuff to do first. So come on."

I hesitated. For some _crazy _reason, I didn't want to jump. What if my wings didn't work? What if this, too, was just a trap?

Con sighed irritably. "Come _on_. Just jump. I swear your wings will work. Just trust me."

I frowned. "Bad choice of words, Con."

But, before I could talk myself out of it, I ran forward and flung myself off the edge of the floor. I dropped about thirty feet (thirty long heart-stopping feet) before I was able to snap my wings open. A light breeze came up under my feathers and carried me back up towards Con.

As we drew level, he raised an eyebrow at me. Like a silent _I told you so._

I glared at him. "Shut up."

He flashed me a smile and gave his wings an extra flap. He surged up, then tilted down and started flying off back in the direction where the trap used to be. Reluctantly, I followed, shuddering slightly as the little section of floor I'd been standing on fell away as I flew over it.

I went faster, soon catching up to Con. "So what happens now?" I asked him. "Where are you taking me?"

"I'm not _taking_ you anywhere," he said, glancing back at me over his shoulder. "I've _already taken_ you somewhere. Look down."

"Huh?" Idiotically, I looked down, and in doing so I ran into Con, who'd braked and landed on something. We crashed to the ground (or floor, or whatever it was) and I automatically cried out. _"Ow!"_

"W-watch where you're going next time, will ya?" Con said as he disentangled himself from me.

"Well, you could warn me when you stop all of a sudden like that!" I snapped back, sitting up. I rubbed the back of my head from where I'd cracked it on the ground (or floor, or whatever it was). "Where are we?"

Con sat back and nodded his head at something behind me. "Look for yourself."

"Huh?" I turned and looked down.

It was what looked like the deck of a ship, and a massive fight was going on. I realized I was on an upper deck--there was a rail to keep me from falling to the lower decks--looking down onto the scene. It was night, but I could see everything perfectly.

I saw me, and the flock, and the anti-flock, too. Only we weren't fighting each other--in fact, we seemed on the same team, even helping each other out once in a while. We were facing off against a bunch of kids I didn't recognize save for four: Joey, Frankie, Sy, and Ariel. I could only assume the strangers were from their respective hybrid groups.

"What the. . .?" I watched the fight go on for about two minutes before Fang went down, knocked out by a girl in a black hat. Then Max bit it when Frankie kicked her into the rail, and Team Bird-Kid fell apart from there.

"Kinda sad, isn't it?" Con asked mildly, and I jumped--he'd come to crouch beside me at some point. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, but he was watching the fight. "Even all of us together can't win."

"Why are you showing me this?" I asked, frowning as I watched dream-Joey knock out a second dream-Con. The dream-me seemed to freak out, throwing balls of lightning at everything and everybody until a boy in a dark blue hoodie did a crazy anime-jump ten feet across the deck to punch me out. My head throbbed.

"I'm a figment of _your_ imagination," Con said, standing up. He leaned against the rail of this upper deck and shrugged. "Why don't _you_ tell _me _why I'm here?"

I watched the cat-people and fish-people make short work of rounding up the unconscious bird-people: to kill us or just keep us locked up, I didn't want to know. "Is this. . .something that's supposed to happen?" I guessed. "Like, the future? I didn't know I could do that."

"Maybe you can't," Con suggested. "Even normal humans get weird premonitions sometimes."

"Like that movie with Sandra Bullock," I said, grabbing the rail and pulling myself up.

". . .Not exactly," Con told me. "See, in that one, she did everything she could to change it, and it ended up happening anyway."

I paused. "Are you telling me I can't change this?"

Con turned his head to look at me, and I realized with a jolt that for the very first time I couldn't read his eyes. Like, before, I could see that he had a not-so-secret desire to kill me. Or capture me. Or that he was really freaking annoyed or absolutely disbelieving that I could be so. . .so. . .well, so _me_. (I am a lot to handle, you know.)

Now, however, it was something else. Something akin to that look he'd had when he and Blaze had come in to "warn" me about something or other back in the Factory. I was trying to place where I'd seen that kind of look in somebody else's eyes before when he spoke, and it hit me.

Sy had looked at me that way before. Many, many times before.

"Are you telling me you're not going to try?"

For some reason--some crazy, messed-up, so-weird-it-can-only-be-a-dream reason--_Con was concerned about me._

I hadn't realized it, but the scene around me had begun to fade away into the normal setting of the shadow-world. The deck I was standing on was gone in a heartbeat, and oh-so-suddenly I was plunging down into a choppy gray sea.

* * *

I gasped as I jerked awake.

Heart hammering, I looked around wildly--I was in a hotel room, on a couch. Dr. Martinez was there, asleep in a bed with Max. Nudge and Angel were on a second bed, and everything was dark. A clock on a table between the beds said it was about nine p.m.

My breathing short and shallow, I shakily lay back down on my couch. I'd been out all day, then, despite the fact that the dream seemed to take almost no time at all.

And speaking of. . .I frowned. That last image of Con, looking all concerned and serious and not wanting to kill me, was stuck in my head. I shut my eyes and pressed my palms to my eyelids, trying to block it out and force it out of my head. But it wouldn't f*cking leave.

_Are you telling me I can't change this?_

Somehow, that scene on the ship gave me a really, really bad feeling. It could have been because that Con and I had been on the same side, or because it had been that my dream-self had freaked out so completely when he'd fallen.

_Oh, I'll change it,_ I thought furiously. _I'll make sure I never set foot on that ship again._

* * *

At first, she was just humming. An old song, he guessed, from an animated movie that had premiered in the 90's. Back when the two of them were just little kids, and still liked watching those kinds of things.

But then she started to sing.

_"Daan-cing bears, paaiin-ted wings. Thiings I al-most re-meeemmm-berrr. Aaand a song, sooome-one sings. Once, u-pon, a De-ceeemm-beeeerrrr."_

Con grabbed for his pillow to hold it over his head, anything to block out that stupid song. But even though it was so soft, he could still hear it. It was inside his head, a sound he couldn't escape.

_"Sooome-one hooolds me saaafe and warm. Hooor-ses prance throouuugh a siiiill-ver storm. Fiii-gures daan-cing graaace-fulllyyy, a-cross, my meee-mo-ryyyyyyy!"_

"Why can't you just shut the hell up and leave me alone?!?!" he groaned loudly, voice slightly muffled by the mattress.

The singer stopped her song, snickering triumphantly. "Oh, you know me, Con. You tell me to shut up and I'll only sing louder. _Faaaarrr a-waay, loooonng a-go! Glooo-wing dim as an eeeeemmm-beeerr! Thiiings my heart, used to know! Thiiiiiings it yearns to re-meeeeeem-beeerr!"_

"All right, all right!" Con threw his pillow aside and forced himself up into a sitting position, his mood only sinking further when he recognized (with frustration) the scene that was the beginning of the dreams he'd been having for the past week and a half.

It was his room from the Factory. He was in his bed, which was in the corner, and over on the opposite wall was a desk. Spark was leaning against it, working at a Rubick's cube as she continued to hum the tune to that stupid, _stupid_ song.

She looked calm, and clean--unlike the last time he'd seen her, for instance, when she'd been screaming as she plunged into the Atlantic Ocean. But other than that, it was the same--dirty-blond hair drawn back into a low ponytail, faint scar on her face from when she'd fought with Ariel, light blue jeans, plain brown t-shirt, _his_ black jacket. She probably didn't know it, but that was a habit she'd picked up a long time ago, back when she still lived at the Factory. She'd take his things and wear them always, because she "liked the smell."

Con's fists clenched, and Spark looked up from the completed brain teaser she'd been playing with. She smiled.

"Well, come on, then," she said, tossing the cube back to his desk. She stood up and pushed up her sleeves. "Time to trek through the impossible labyrinth that is your mind. Let's go."

Con groaned and fell back onto his bed, burying himself under the covers. "I don't want to," he said, shutting his eyes tightly. Maybe if he fell asleep, the dream wouldn't happen. Maybe he'd wake up. Or at least dream something else.

"Nobody _cares_ what you want." In one quick motion the covers disappeared, and Spark had grabbed Con's hand and yanked him out of the bed. Dragging him along behind her, she started for the door. "It's about what _I_ want. Even though I'm just part of _your_ imagination."

"Which would mean it's still about what _I_ want," Con pointed out, smirking. "You lose."

"Ah, shut up." Spark opened the door, dropped his hand, and jumped out into the swirling black-and-gray mass of shadows that lay beyond.

With a defeated sigh, Con followed.

It was a short flight, like always--Spark started to hum again, and Con did his best to block it out. The first time he'd had this dream, he'd been a lot less cooperative. Needling her for questions, trying to turn back, threatening to wake himself up. Spark had just laughed at him.

Soon enough they came to open water: the ocean. Spark started to circle and dive toward the_ Princess Andromeda_, coasting along beneath them.

Again, Con followed.

They dived deeper and deeper until suddenly Spark flared her wings, braking sharply and dropping to the uppermost. . .part of the. . .ship.

(He didn't know what it was called! He didn't _have_ to know!)

Spark folded her wings and crouched down as Con landed beside her. Something was happening down on the deck, and even though Con knew what was going on he watched it all unfold anyway.

There were hybrids down there, not a single one he didn't recognize. There was his own flock, of course, along with Spark's. For some reason, the two groups of bird-kids weren't fighting. Instead, they seemed to be facing off against a shared enemy: cat hybrids and fish hybrids. As Con watched, the cat hybrids "phased"--that is to say, they took on aspects of cats. Pointed ears, yellow eyes, claws. Even tails. Then, all the fish-kids blinked, and their eyes were all the same color: red, like so many rubies.

Then the fight began.

It seemed pretty evenly matched--everybody had somebody to fight with, and nobody ever seemed to be winning. Blood from both sides splattered to the deck as scratches were received, teeth were kicked out, and noses broke.

Con frowned as he watched his dream-self take a hit from Joey, the Italian cat hybrid. The frown deepened as Shadow fell to the deck and was kicked repeatedly by Nixie, one of the fish girls from Utah.

"Why do you always bring me here?" he finally asked Spark.

She watched the other dream-Spark punch out Ariel, then shrugged. "I dunno. It's _your_ dream, you tell me."

The fight raged on down on the _Andromeda_'s deck. Con started to get bored. That is, until something changed.

Aqua, another fish girl, ducked a blow from Ride's second-in-command, Fang. Then she kicked his legs out from under him and he crashed to the deck. Aqua leaped up, delivered a kick to his head, and knocked him out.

Ride turned in time to see it and went white. Frankie, who she'd been fighting, took advantage of the distraction and slashed his cat's claws across Ride's back. He then spun around, kicked her side, and sent her flying into the rails that surrounded the deck. Ride hit her head on the bars and fell unconscious.

After that, it was just a domino effect. One by one, each bird-kid was defeated, some unconscious before they even hit the deck. Soon enough, only the Con and Spark down on the deck were left, back to back as the enemy encircled them.

Words were exchanged, but Con couldn't hear them. He just watched--still frowning--as first he was knocked out, and then Spark.

The Spark beside him stood up.

"Ah well. That's that, I guess."

"How is it we always lose?" Con asked in frustration. "Every single time I have this stupid f*cking dream, we end up losing!!"

"Oh, I know. Kinda depressing, innit?" Spark said, sounding rather disinterested. "Knowing that you're fated to fail isn't really a day-maker."

"Fated?" Con repeated sharply, looking up at Spark. She was inspecting her fingernails (as if she actually cared about that kind of thing), but glanced down mildly at his question.

"Hm?"

"You said fated to fail," Con said, standing. Spark looked back to her hand and pretended to ignore him. "Is that what this is? Is this the future or something?"

"It is so amazing that it took you this long to realize that," Spark said, smirking up at him.

Con's hands clenched into fists at his sides. Even when she wasn't real she was just _so freaking annoying!_

Furious irritation continued to build up inside Con as the entire scene--the ship, the sea, even the night sky--began to fade away to black and gray shadows. Spark started to hum for the fourth time in the dream.

Finally, Con couldn't take it anymore. Slowly, with a strained tone and barely-contained anger, he asked, "And there's no way to change this?"

Spark chuckled and opened her wings. At the same time, the surface beneath Con's feet vanished and he began to drop.

"Not if you don't stop chasing meeeeeee!" Spark called.

* * *

Con jerked so bad he fell off the edge of the couch.

The impact stung for just a few seconds--it wasn't _that_ that made him slam his fist against the floor. It was _her_. Spark. Spark and that stupid goddamn _dream!_

What annoyed him most is that she just told him the same thing every night: if he didn't stop chasing her, they'd end up losing that fight on the _Princess Andromeda_.

But he couldn't just give up. She'd ruined his life, and he had to get her back. He had to ruin _her_ life now.

As long as they stayed away from the coast, then how the hell would anybody ever get him on that ship anyway? Plus, the cat hybrids were over in Italy. They wouldn't come all the way back here just for them. Unless. . .if the Director. . .

Con frowned as he picked himself up and sat on the couch again. He knew their running away after Spark and the Cali group had pissed off a lot of people, but he doubted the Director herself would get involved. And even if she did, there was no way she was stupid enough to trust a bunch of kids like Dylan and Ariel and Joey and Frankie.

Con glanced around the room, where the others were sleeping--girls in one bed, boys in another. Shadow's breathing sounded normal--he was getting better.

_Tomorrow, then,_ he thought. _Tomorrow we'll leave and finally get rid of Spark._

* * *

Sneaking onto a plane isn't the easiest thing in the world to do--especially nowadays--but then again, most people didn't think it was possible to splice nonhuman DNA into an eleven-week-old fetus.

Some people--like Sy--were talented like that.

So it was only a few hours after he'd snuck out of the hotel in Columbia that he was riding the elevator up to some meeting he was supposed to have with Itex's newest Director.

Sy ran a hand through his hair, wondering guiltily what Spark would think when she would wake up to find him gone. She'd probably be pissed. No, she'd _definitely_ be pissed. He regretted not telling her about it, and not even waking her up to say good-bye. Of course, she'd done the same thing to him once--but back then, they hadn't been as close. And he'd known where she was going. And they hadn't been apart for too long, whereas now he had no idea when he'd be able to get back to her.

After Spark had passed out in the CSM meeting, Max had jumped at the chance to delay it. So the entire flock, plus Dr. Martinez and himself, had left Windsong Enterprises to return to the hotel Max's mom had been staying at. During the trip, Max had asked him a bunch of questions--why had he been on that cruise ship, why had he saved Spark, why was he still here with her, what was he planning, blah, blah, blah. It'd taken some time to convince her of his validity.

Then Dr. Martinez had gotten a call from that Shawn Hayes guy, who told them he'd just realized the true reason for that meeting: the U.S. government didn't want the bird-kids to leave the country. They'd given excuses like "kids should be in school" and "they're underage" and "they don't have legal guardians to approve of this." Stupid crap like that. But it'd all really boiled down to the fact that Max's flock shouldn't be allowed to leave.

Dr. Martinez had gone back to W.E. without them, to deliver a few choice words to the suited men--things involving the sticking of things where they shouldn't be stuck. When she'd returned, she'd told them there wouldn't be any more problems and that the tour to Australia to help CSM spread the word about. . .whatever it was they stood for.**

They hadn't done much else for the rest of the day. Just hung out in the hotel, killed time, lazed around. The next day they'd part ways with Dr. M--she would take a plane to Florida, and the flock would fly to Miami to meet up with her a day or so later. Then, off to Australia and the Down Under.

Sy dropped his hand, still thinking about Spark and the flock and Australia when he caught sight of something blue on the back of his hand. He looked at it for a second, then smiled faintly. It was the "zap" Nudge had given him earlier. Apparently, there was a dare written on his palm, and if he looked at it before midnight he'd have to do it.

He flipped his hand over. In Nudge's girly handwriting, the "zap" said:

_kiss spark and tell her you love her in front of EVERYBODY!!! (when she wakes up, at least)_

The elevator doors dinged open, and Sy looked up. To his mild surprise, the elevator had opened up straight into a conference room, where there was a large oblong table, about eleven children, and the Director herself. The Director had been looking through a binder, and the kids had all been murmuring amongst themselves--though that all stopped as everybody turned to stare at him.

A clock ticked loudly in the background. Almost automatically, Sy stepped out of the elevator and searched for it as the elevator doors closed behind him.

_Whups._ His mouth quirked minutely as he saw the time. _Only eleven-thirty._

"Ah. Dylan."

All thoughts of his zap dare dwindled to a halt as Sy flicked his eyes across the room to give the Director a blank look.

She was short--only about five-five--and had dark red hair that went well with her navy-blue pantsuit. Her name was Lilith Dicus, and she smiled a smile that didn't reach her dark brown eyes.

"Please," she said, standing and gesturing to an empty chair at the end of the conference table, directly opposite of her. "Sit. We've been waiting."

". . .Yeah," he said slowly, gingerly lowering himself into the chair. To his right--Dicus' left--sat part of his "school," five others from the group of fish hybrids. He recognized all of them: Ariel, Aliza, Nixie, Aqua, and Arthur. Nixie smiled and waved at him, and Aqua pointed to her eye questioningly. He ignored her.

To his left--Dicus' right--spanned the pride of cat hybrids, Joey, Frankie, their three brothers, and their sister, who Sy vaguely recalled as being named Tony, Lenny, Eugene, and Molly. Joey carefully avoided his gaze, but Frankie wasn't so controlled; his eyes met Sy's for a brief second. For some reason, the corners of Frankie's mouth turned down.

"Well," the Director said, catching everyone's attention. "Now that we're all here, I would like to tell you all why I called you here."

"I thought it was about them bird kids," the youngest of Joey's brothers blurted. Dicus fixed cold eyes upon him and he fell quiet. On the table, Joey's hand twitched, as if it wanted to become a fist.

"It is," the Director said, her tone rather frosty. Her eyes moved from Tony to look over each hybrid sitting at her table. "However, I have some other things to share with you first."

Sy's mouth twitched and he closed his eyes. He could just imagine what Spark would be doing were she here.

_She rolled her eyes and said, "Ooh. Haven't had show-and-tell in years. Whatcha got for us today, Lil?"_

Dicus stood and began to walk around the table. As she walked, she started to speak.

"Ever since I first learned the true nature of Itex, I have completely devoted my life to everything it aims for," she said, slowly passing behind Arthur, Aqua, and Aliza. Arthur rolled his eyes, Aqua visibly shuddered, and Aliza twitched.

"When I became Director, it has become my desire," Dicus said, continuing on behind Nixie, Ariel, and Sy himself, "to defy the common conception of man. I wish to defy God's creations."

He could tell why the younger ones had reacted the way they did when Dicus passed--as she hovered behind Sy, an uncomfortable shiver danced up his spine. To take his mind off it, he again imagined WSWD. What Spark would do.

_Spark snickered. "Ambitious little bugger, ain't'cha?"_

"God created man as the most intelligent of animals; yet He restricted us to land, with lesser reflexes than even vermin." Contempt entered the Director's voice as she walked around behind Molly, Eugene, and Frankie. Eugene took his sister's hand and Frankie's mouth pulled into a frown.

"He allowed birds to fly, fish to swim, and cats to be among the most dangerous of predators."

Joey's hand clenched into a fist, and Tony's eyes turned yellow and slitted. Lenny was very still, his fingernails slowly turning black. Dicus completed her circuit of the table and walked over to the large windows along the back wall of the room. There she finally stopped, looking out over the city.

"And then there is man. Flightless, weak, and unable to brave the depths of the sea."

_A slight pause. Then: "I think she just said the same thing three different ways," Spark whispered._

"Thus, Itex created three advanced species: the human-avians, the human-felines, and the human-aquatics. Respectively, there are twelve, ten, and sixteen successes."

Sy leaned his head on his hand. Though imagining potential comebacks was fun, the entire meeting was becoming quite dull. So he started to think about other things--mainly what Dicus had just said.

_Twelve birds. . .that means just Max, Con, Spark, and their flocks. Sixteen of _us_ probably means just sixteen with the usual amount of fish DNA--the others have more or less. And ten cats would mean there are four more than just Joey's pride._

Sy looked over at Joey, whose eyes had narrowed slightly. If he was right, he guessed that Joey didn't know who the other four human-felines were.

"However. . ." Dicus paused, as if to frown. Nobody could tell because she had her back to them. "It seems as though the human-avians are causing. . .problems. And to me, problems are not acceptable." Dicus finally turned. "To me, problems are to be dealt with _immediately_."

She fell quiet then, hard eyes fixing on Sy. He quickly glanced around to the others, but nobody looked at him. Silently, they'd all nominated him to be their spokesperson.

Sy looked back to Dicus. He could tell she didn't approve of his lazy, inattentive expression. To annoy her, he decided he'd refuse to sit up straight.

"And you mean for _us_ to do that for you," he said slowly, raising an eyebrow at her. It took a second, but Dicus smiled that fake smile.

"Yes," she said crisply. She came back to the table and opened the binder that was lying in front of her chair. "According to the data I've received, the twelve of you in particular have yet to fail a mission."

Dicus glanced up from the binder and smiled again. Sy just stared at her. "And. . .?" he prompted mildly.

She tensed, and Sy began to understand more and more why Spark did everything she could to annoy people she didn't like. In all truth, it was some of the most fun he'd had (if he discounted all his ventures with Spark).

With a tight grimace, Dicus said, "And I would like you to take on _this _mission, to eliminate the human-avians. If you join together with the felines, the human-avians are outnumbered. Therefore, it should be easy for you to--"

"Hang on a sec, they're not outnumbered," Frankie interrupted. Everybody looked at him, but he didn't blanch in the slightest. Looking straight at Dicus, he said, "There are twelve of them, and twelve of us here that you want to destroy them. We're even. There could be a chance for them to escape."

Dicus frowned. "Yes, that's true. However, the avians are not traveling in a single group. They are divided, and because of that they will fall. You will capture the failures from Chicago first, and then take on the runaways from California. After that. . ."

"I thought you meant for us to destroy them," Ariel said, eyes narrowing. "Which is it? Kidnap or kill?"

"Both," the Director snapped. "You will capture them first, then contain them to the _Princess Andromeda_ as it delivers equipment and supplies from here to London so next week's conference has the means to succeed. Upon arrival in London, I myself will question the human-avians and offer them one last chance at life. When they refuse, you will have my permission to destroy them as you see fit. Are we clear?"

She was looking at Sy again.

For a second, he considered asking for time to think.

But then something in the back of his mind stirred, and before he could stop himself, he'd said:

"Of course. We accept the mission."

* * *

*i think that's the most literary references i've ever gotten into a single paragraph of this story. (there are nine. technically eleven, but you only see the tenth one if you squint and nobody'll ever guess the eleventh one. . .)

**i'm not going to go much into all the environmental and global warming stuff. because that's what _the final warning_ was about, and that's where james patterson started to go wrong. i don't wanna make the same mistake.

longest chapter of _when we chase us_, yes! i didn't really feel like writing the csm meeting in full detail, which is why i skipped over it. although spark probably could've made one of those things really fun, i kinda wanted to get this chapter over and done with.

and now the real fun begins. . .


	8. Chapter 8

okay, so a lot of you tried to guess all the literary references i made last chapter, so here they are, in order:

chronicles of narnia, harry potter, lord of the rings, twilight, eragon, bloody jack, percy jackson and the olympians (technically--bronze cannonballs, like clarisse used in sea of monsters), icemark chronicles, the windsong epic (which is the angel dust thing--it's a story my friend and i are currently writing), mortal instruments trilogy, and the secrets of the immortal nicholas flamel series.

but anyway. on with the story. . .

disclaimer: don't own maximum ride.

* * *

_**8. until we get caught**_

". . .Gone," I repeated. The word didn't seem to make sense. "What d'you mean he's _gone?_"

Max shifted uncomfortably, and Fang shrugged. "Must've snuck out while the rest of us were sleeping. Nobody's seen him since last night."

I groaned and dropped my head to my hands, my eyes closing. I could feel a headache coming on.

About ten minutes prior to this, I'd been lightly shaken awake by Max's mom. (And there I was thinking I wouldn't've been able to get back to sleep after that freaky dream.) She'd checked me out and deemed me perfectly okay--which I myself probably could've told her.

And it'd been an okay morning--Nudge had chattered at me while we ate breakfast, and Total had gotten angry at the Jeopardy people for being stupid--until Max had come traipsing back into the room with the guys in tow.

The guys minus Sy.

I'd asked where he was, and then Max and Fang had given each other one of those looks.

And then the morning stopped being not-sucky.

"Maybe he just went for a walk or something," Nudge suggested, sitting down beside me on the couch.

I let out a dry laugh. "Yeah. Sure. A walk. Without telling anybody." I rubbed my temples, taking deep breaths as I tried to get my thoughts in order.

There was an uncomfortable silence, until Max asked, "Is there anywhere you think he might've. . ."

"_No_," I interrupted, perhaps a bit more defensive than I'd intended. I let out a breath. "Sorry. It's just. . .I can't believe he just _ditched_ me like that!"

"He didn't just ditch _you_, Spark," Fang said quietly.

"Yeah, he ditched all of us," Gazzy added.

"Yeah, right, none of you even like him," I said unthinkingly, running a hand through my hair. "Ohh, when he comes back he is _dead!_"

There was another awkward pause, and I realized what I'd just said. _Great,_ I thought. _Not only am I freaking out, but now they're gonna get all offended._

"How can you say none of us like him?" Angel asked, sounding confused. "I mean, I know Iggy doesn't really, and Max and Fang don't trust him, but Nudge and Gazzy and I all like him."

"I know, Angel," I said tiredly, sitting up. I sighed and rested my chin in my hand. "It's just. . .I guess none of you like him _as much_ as I do. He's like my best friend or something."

Max let out a tiny scoff. "Or something. Not everybody makes out with their best friend."

My eyes shut tight and I felt my collar heat up as Fang and Iggy snickered. I heard Angel whisper something to Nudge and she gasped.

"Did you really make out with Sy?!" Nudge exclaimed, grabbing my arm. "Are you two going out or something? What. . ."

Ignoring Nudge, I sat up and gave Max an incredulous, knowing look. "Like I'm the only one who's done that, Max? Really? Or were you and Fang just practicing CPR?"

Her jaw dropped, but shut again quickly as her cheeks burned bright red. Fang went still as pretty much everybody else (Iggy mostly) burst out laughing.

The noise woke Total, who had been (until now) taking a mini-nap over by the heater. He groaned loudly and obviously and loudly muttered about us crazy kids before trotting over. He plopped down at my feet and scratched his ear.

"So what's happenin'?" he asked, shaking out his fur. "When we leavin' for Florida? This Carolina fall is _not_ good for my health."

A few of us laughed, and Max finally regained herself (somewhat, at least) enough to say, "We'll, uh, leave in a little bit. I want everyone to take advantage of the showers while we have them available."

"Speaking of water," Total said as the flock dispersed--to pack, to shower, to eat, etc. "Where's Aqua-Lad? He said he'd take me for a walk this morning."

I blinked, then laughed nervously. "He's, uh, kinda MIA at the moment," I said uncomfortably, scratching the back of my head. "Sorry."

The little dog looked up at me and tilted his head. He seemed to see something off in my face, because he nimbly leaped into my lap, giving my face a reassuring lick.

"You're too good for him anyway, Sparky," he told me in a soft dog-whisper.

I smiled wryly and scratched his head. "Thanks, Totally."

* * *

It was around noon when things went to hell.

We'd left at, like, eight, and were almost a third of the way across Georgia by now. Things had been going well--some interesting games of Would You Rather, a bit of the flock teaching me some things they'd picked up off some hawks a while back, and some minor goofing around as I did everything possible to not think about Sy.

Everyone had just finished making fun of me for choosing a thirty-year prison sentence over killing my pet dog, and then all of a sudden:

_BANG!_

Angel screamed and dipped alarmingly--she probably would've dropped right out of the sky if Fang hadn't swooped down to catch her.

"Everybody scatter!" Max barked. "Meet at rendezvous point number four!!"

Is it prepared, paranoid, or just plain sad that we'd mapped out escape routes along our flight path to Miami?

At one time, I would've thought paranoid. About a week after I met Max, I would've called it prepared. Now, though, it was just plain sad. Especially because even _I_ had expected something to go wrong during this little escapade.

"Ig, you're with me!" I called, tilting my wings and veering off to the left. "Total, you too!"

"Fang, take Angel!" Max ordered. "I've got Nudge and Gazzy!"

And without another word, we all split up.

Total retreated to Iggy's arms so the three of us could really haul wing, turning west and doubling around in an almost twenty-mile-wide circle before heading for rendezvous point four, a short stretch of beach and cliffs at the coast.

I kept a constant lookout, looking up and down and all around for whichever anti-flock members might be following us. And I thought we were in the clear, too, until we were about half an hour from meeting up with Max and the others.

I don't know how I didn't see it coming. I'd just looked away from the forest below when something burst up out of the trees.

"Spark, _move!_" Iggy yelled, twisting around and slamming into me. We tumbled forty feet to the right before something exploded, making my ears pop.

"_Damn_ it!" a young, frustrated voice shouted. "I missed!"

I recognized it as Shadow--the next voice, too, was familiar beyond what I would like.

"Don't miss again!" Con called out. "We've only got four of these!"

"Dammit, how'd they find us?!" I griped, disentangling my wings from Iggy's.

"It doesn't matter," he replied. "Let's just shake 'em and get to the rendezvous!"

"Right! But first. . ."

Iggy continued to fly, but I stopped and turned around. Just below me I could see Con and Shadow, streaking up toward me. I smirked and waggled my fingers at Con, allowing colorful sparks to dance over my fingertips.

Con's eyes went wide and he immediately braked. "Shadow, back o--"

I didn't allow him to finish. Rather, I just swiped my hand through the air and chucked a bright ball of electricity down at the eldest and youngest members of the anti-flock.

Con dodged it, and Shadow tried to but didn't move in time--the shot clipped his leg and I saw even from there the way he spazzed from the shock.

That seemed to piss Con off, for he grabbed something from his belt, lit it, and hurled it my way. I turned tail and streaked away as fast as I could. I'd just caught up to Iggy when the resounding explosion wave nearly knocked us from the sky.

"Dive down!" I cried, folding my wings and dropping like a rock. "We'll go through the trees!"

And so it went on (and on and on), Con and Shadow chasing us, throwing bombs and bullets, while Iggy and I tried to shake them, sometimes returning fire with lightning and some of our own bombs.

Have I mentioned lately how much I dislike being chased? I mean, if it's for fun, like in tag or something, I don't mind, but when my pursuers are trying to _kill_ me. . .

As we neared the coast, we started hearing the noise of other battles. I heard Angel scream once, and assigned a far-off explosion as something of Gazzy's creation.

"We can't keep going in circles!" Iggy yelled to me at one point. Then he ducked and a branch exploded over his head. "They'll catch us!"

"I know, I know!" I cried, my head turning this way and that as I searched for a hiding place. I soon spotted one in the form of a pile of pale granite rocks, a formation that looked like a slanted stone shack. Aiming for it, I called, "This way!"

With Iggy on my tail, I circled the formation twice before spotting an opening. Then, tucking my wings tight, I dropped down and shot inside. The cave itself turned out to be smaller than I'd thought, so I ended up falling as I tried to run to a stop. I was up in a second, ready to warn Iggy, but then he was colliding with me quite painfully.

"OW!!" I yelped as I skidded four feet on my back. "Geez, Iggy, wait for a warning!"

"Well, in case you haven't noticed, we're kinda _running away_," he snapped back, sitting up and brushing off his shirt. (How he knew where the dirt was I'll never know.) "And I prefer this over death."

"Oh, don't start," Total said, cutting me off before I could retort. He shook himself and glanced around. "Well. Nice little hidey-hole we got here, huh?"

"Hopefully," I replied, leaning back on my hands. "I'm pretty sure Con and Shadow lost track of us after that third smoke bomb, but just to be safe let's--"

"Sh!" Iggy hissed, back suddenly going rigid. I immediately clammed up, and heard it as well--a scrabbling of loose rock.

I softly got to my feet, positioning myself so I could easily attack whoever was trying to get into the cave. Then, a distorted figure dropped down and darted in.

I let out a sigh and relaxed. "Geez, guys. Say something, would ya? I almost electrocuted you."

Fang rolled his eyes as he set Angel down on her feet. "Yeah, sure."

I ignored him and looked down at Angel, who looked like she'd been crying. Taking a knee, I started checking her over. "You okay, Angel?"

"Y-yeah," she sniffed, rubbing her nose with her sleeve. Her shirt was spattered with a surprising amount of blood that I couldn't find the origin of until Angel lifted the side of her shirt. "Swift shot me."

"Ooh, I bet that hurt," I said gently, lightly brushing my fingers over the wound. Angel winced and I backed off, turning to where my backpack lay on the floor. (The strap had snapped and it'd fallen off my back after Iggy had run into me.) "But it doesn't look too bad. You should be fine."

"Why are girls so good at this stuff?" I heard Iggy mutter at Fang as I quietly cleaned and bandaged Angel's side. It wasn't too bad--Swift's shot had just nicked her a bit, nothing too serious.

"It's 'cuz girls rule and boys drool," I said as I finished wrapping Angel's middle with gauze. She gave a weak giggle and I winked at her.

And then things went to hell again.

Iggy went still and Total mumbled "Uh-oh," and then the mouth of the cave darkened. Three shapes were blocking it.

"Dammit!" I swore as I grabbed Angel and pushed her behind me. "How'd they find us?"

"Y'know, it makes me sad that you doubt me that way, Spark," Con said easily, striding into the cave. He was flanked by Shadow and Swift only--the others must've still been after Max, Nudge, and Gazzy.

"Yeah? Well, it makes _me_ sad to think that you'll never get a girlfriend," I snapped back. Then I smirked. "No, actually that makes me happy."

"It's four on three, Con," Fang snapped, stepping forward to my side. Iggy came up to my left so that we mirrored the anti-flock. (Then Total pushed between my feet and started growling at Con, ruining the effect.) "You're outnumbered."

"Oh, yeah, right," Con said flippantly. "That little girl can only fight with mind control, which Swift isn't affected by, and I'm surprised the blind one can do anything at all. Three on two."

I elbowed Iggy lightly to keep him from attacking Con then and there. "I've gotta say, Con, you must think Shadow's SuperBoy or something. He's barely a match for Angel. Four on two."

"Okay, you know what, we could find faults with each other all day," Con said, rolling his eyes. "Either way, it'll still end with us capturing you. So you could either kick up a fuss and force us to hurt you, or come quietly without a struggle."

"Hm." I tapped my chin with my finger, then looked at Fang. "I opt for neither. _Et toi?_*"

"Neither's cool," Fang said, shrugging.

I turned to my left. "Iggy? What say you?"

"Definitely neither," he replied tightly.

"Totally?" I looked down. Total ignored me, or didn't hear me--just kept growling. ". . .Oookay. Ange?"

"I wanna find Max," she said. "So, it's neither of the things you said."

"Nice. So, Con, it looks like you're outnumbered. Again. So why don't you just step aside and let us skip off to continue with our lives, hmm?"

"Well, I would, but victims get half-vote," Con bantered, smiling. "So it's two and a half to three. You lose."

I opened my mouth to say something witty--like, "Yeah, well, your mom!"--when the three of them attacked.

"Hell!" I dropped to the floor and Fang darted behind me to grab Angel as Iggy narrowly avoided getting swiped by a large hawk claw. Total ran forward and fastened his teeth around Shadow's ankle, making the little boy shout and hop around on one foot in a wonderfully funny way.

Leaving Shadow in Total's capable paws (and jaws. . .haha, animal humor), I jumped up to observe everything else. Fang was holding Con off, and Iggy was just barely keeping Swift away.

I swung my arm around and flicked out with my fingers--thin bolts of lightning spiked out from my hand, flying straight at Swift and hitting him across the back.

He spazzed out, and Iggy slammed his fist into Swift's stomach. I jumped forward and seized both his arms, holding them behind his back and rendering him motionless.

"Hey, Con!" I shouted, turning around and yanking Swift around with me. "Stop now or I'll. . ."

"You'll _what_?"

I stopped, eyes going wide as I saw Con holding Angel in a headlock. Fang was on the cave floor, holding very still at the other end of Shadow's gun. I could see Total picking himself up from near the cave's mouth--I needled at him with my eyes until he got the message. Very quietly, he trotted out of the cave and flew away.

Hopefully for help of some kind.

"Con!" Swift cried out, watching as Total soared away. "Con, the do--"

I clapped a hand over Swift's mouth and twisted his arm up his back until he flinched. Con's lips twitched in a frown.

"Huh. Guess we're at an _impasse_," Con said. Then his frown turned into a smirk. "Unless. . ."

He pulled out his gun and held it to Angel's temple. My eyes went wide, but then there was a click from _my_ side and I realized Iggy had somehow found Swift's gun, and was pointing at Swift himself.

"S-Spark! Iggy!" Angel cried, her voice wavering. "Help me!"

"Just calm down, Angel!" Fang said, glaring at Con. "Don't give him an excuse to hurt you!"

"Shadow, come here," Con said evenly. Swift struggled but I kept my hold on him, even as Shadow crossed the cave to hesitate in front of Angel. Fang was up in a second, but a click from Con's gun stopped him from rushing to Angel's aid.

Con raised his arm, making Angel gag and stand on her tiptoes. "Until Spark lets go of Swift, do whatever you want to her."

I froze, then looked back at Fang and Iggy. Iggy's face was blank, and Fang looked. . .taut. (Which meant he was really, really pissed off.)

And yet they both remained still, thinking Con was bluffing. But I knew better--he'd let Shadow beat Angel up until she couldn't even see. And then he'd let Swift beat her up, too.

So rather than be the reason for Angel's possible disfiguration, I pushed Swift forward, blurting, _"Don't!"_

"A-_ha_," Con said triumphantly, lifting Angel up before Shadow could punch her. The little blond boy's swing made him overbalance and stagger. Angel whimpered and wriggled. With surprising care, Con set her down and let her go (you know, as opposed to, oh, say, just dropping her). She ran to me, throwing her skinny arms around my waist and burying her face in my shirt. Swift straightened his t-shirt before quietly returning to Con's side.

Con smirked at me. "I knew you wouldn't let her get hurt. You're too soft that way, Spark."

I bit my lip, my hand tightening on Angel's shoulder. "Oh, yeah, like you wouldn't freak out if something happened to Shadow?" I accused.

"No," he said simply, shrugging. "Because unlike Angel, Shadow can actually take care of himself."

"What?!" Shadow exclaimed. "If I can take care of myself then how come you still boss me around and tell me what to eat and when to go to sleep and stuff?! That's total crap!"

Iggy snickered as Con glared back at Shadow. "Can it!"

"You just did it again!"

Con slapped his forehead, groaning. Angel giggled and I smirked at Con, giving him a thumbs-up. "Nice parenting, Con. I'm jealous. I wish _my_ kid would disrespect my authority in front of my enemies."

"Oh, please, Shadow _is_ your kid," Con snapped unexpectedly. "You just weren't there to take care of him. Me and Blaze aren't supposed to--"

"Don't you _dare_ blame me for that. . .that. . .that little demon spawn!" I exclaimed. Shadow's eyebrows came together in anger, but I didn't let him interrupt--Instead I rounded on Con again. "And don't blame me for _your_ problems, either! I mean, get_ over _it already! I ran away ten years ago, so what? Why the hell are you so hung up on me?"

"Can't you tell, Spark?" Angel asked, looking up at me. I glanced down in confusion. "He loved you. And you ran away. He misses you."

My eyes snapped back up to Con, who--to my surprise (and sort of twisted satisfaction)--was actually. . .almost. . ._blushing_.

"Sh-shut up!" he snapped. "Let's just end this right now!"

"What d'you mean?" Fang asked suspiciously.

"A fight," Con said shortly. His eyes met mine and I was surprised by the sudden deadened determination. "You and me. Right here, right now."

I wasn't the only confuzzled one. In unison me, Fang, Iggy, and Shadow all went, _"What?"_

"Con, what're you. . ." Shadow began, but Con held up a hand to silence him. Looking at me again, he made a point of handing his gun off to Swift.

"You heard me, Spark," he said slowly. "A fight. No guns, no powers. Just hand-to-hand, winner take all, you and me."

I narrowed my eyes warily. "You'd let us go if I kicked your ass?"

"Yeah. But if I win, we take you all without a struggle."

This seemed. . .off. Maybe I didn't know him too well, but risk didn't seem much of Con's style. As a taunt I asked, "Won't Daddy get mad at you for risking something as big as this?"

Con scoffed. "I haven't listened to him since I was four years old. I do the things I know I can do. I play when I know I can win."

A part of me--that teeny-tiny logical part--told me I should turn it down and give in. Con and Blaze and the rest of the anti-flock had been trained their entire lives to be fighters, killers. I'd been raised to think I'd get in serious trouble for a single punch. There was no way I could win.

But then the more dominant part of my brain--the Chicago street-kid, the toughened foster-child, and the plain-old rebel--told me to go for it. No way I could just let him call me out like that without reacting to it. And the fierce loyalty that came with this part of the brain kicked in.

"If you win, you can take me," I agreed. Con smirked, but then I added, "But _only _me."

"Now that's not fair," Con said, still smiling. "What good will it be having just you?"

"I'll. . .I'll cooperate." The words made me burn with fury even as I said them. "I'll do whatever you want. I'll follow all your orders, go back to Chicago for testing, even go to that stupid London conference thing. No struggle."

"Hm. . .still not good enough." Con sighed theatrically. "I'll knock off the blind one, though. And the dog."

Ooh, I bet that pissed Iggy off. But he didn't say anything. And, were he here, I could just hear Total now: _What, I'm not good enough to be dog-napped?_

I clenched my fists, a wave of desperation beginning to rise in me. _Ah, man. What to do, what to do? I can't risk Iggy, Fang, and Angel on my fighting skills. I can't fight Con, I won't win without my powers. Maybe if I stall. . .maybe Total will find Max, and they'll come get us before I get my ass kicked too bad. . ._

But then, a voice interrupted my thoughts.

"Deal," Angel said firmly. We all rounded on the little blond girl, mouths gaping, eyes wide. But she ignored us, keeping her baby-blue eyes locked on Con. "If Spark wins, you let us go. And you have to make the others stop chasing Max and Gazzy and Nudge. And promise to never come after us again."

Con raised an eyebrow and smirked. "I think I can do that. Just as long as when I win, you all come with us without a struggle. And when we get back to the Factory, you won't cause trouble when you're all auctioned off to the highest bidder."

Angel nodded, her little face incredibly determined. "Yeah."

"And no outside influence from you during this fight," Shadow piped up, and for a second Angel's expression faltered. She glanced at me and I saw guilty fear--she'd probably been planning on messing with Con's mind.

_Thanks anyway, Angel,_ I thought, then took a breath.

"All right, Con," I said, rolling my shoulders and cracking my knuckles. Pretty much everyone but Shadow and Angel winced. "Let's do this."

A hand touched my arm, and I turned to look at Iggy. He was frowning, his eyes fixed at a spot just below my hairline.

"Spark," he began, but I removed his hand from my arm.

"It's okay, Iggy," I said quietly. "I won't let him beat me."

Fang took Angel and Iggy and backed up--Swift and Shadow got out of the way too, to give me and Con room to tussle.

"No outside interference," Con said, and though he kept his eyes on me I knew he meant Angel, and probably Iggy, who still held Swift's gun.

"Goes for your guys too," I replied. My eyes flickered to Shadow and Swift, which turned out to be a mistake.

Con lunged at me, fist slamming into my shoulder. I spun away from it, so the blow didn't hurt as much as it could've, but it still felt like my arm was numb. As Con followed through on his punch I snapped out my leg and tripped him up. Then I jammed my elbow into his back, slamming him to the floor of the cave.

Con hit the dirt, but swung his foot around and knocked my feet from under me. My head cracked hard against the ground, but I was distracted from that by new pain in my gut. My breath left me, but somehow I managed to get my knee up into that area where guys do not like to be hit.

Con grunted and backed off. I brought both my legs up and snapped them out again into his chest, kicking him back a good six feet. I leapt up and launched myself at him, spinning at the last second to kick at Con's jaw.

There was a gross-sounding _crack_ and Con cried out. But then he flipped around and smashed his own foot into my hip--I staggered aside and fell as Con chopped his arm to the backside of my knee.

Then he was on top of me, punching me in the face. I yelped and twisted around, attempting to shield my head with my arms, but Con grabbed both my wrists in one hand and used the other to punch me in the jaw. I think I felt a tooth come loose.

Furious and frustrated, I kneed him in the stomach, and then kicked him away over my head. I scrambled around and jumped on him, jabbing my knee into his chest as my fists started hammering away at his head.

I had him pinned, and I was whaling on him like no other. He kept trying to get his arms up to knock me away, but I kept them back with my knees. My knuckles split open against his teeth, but the pain didn't register amid the intense satisfaction I was getting in causing Con pain.

(This isn't the first time in recent weeks I've wondered if I'm slightly sadistic.)

Miracle of miracles, I was actually winning.

And I would've won, too, if, oh, so suddenly, I hadn't lost.

Con somehow managed to break one of his arms free, and I saw the minute flash of steel before pain--unbelievable, indescribable _pain_--exploded in my stomach, a white-hot coal lodged just beneath my left ribs.

I was so surprised--and so weirdly out of breath--that I couldn't even scream. My hand just went to the point of origin, and I felt a slick-with-blood handle protruding at an angle from my body.

_The stupid shit had knifed me._

I made a weird gurgling noise and Con shoved me away; I rolled and crumpled on the cave floor, radiations of pain screaming across my abdomen and up in the recesses of my chest. My right hand clawed around the handle of the knife, instinctively applying pressure to the wound. Blood seeped through my shirt, soaking my fingers. I felt like I couldn't breathe.

"Y-y-you. . .d-dirty. . .f-f-f*ckin' cheater!" I choked out as Con's scuffed-up track shoes entered my vision. I tried to inhale but found I couldn't. It was like drowning all over again. My eyes started to water, streaks of wet sliding across my face as I desperately tried to get a breath.

I dimly heard screaming and yelling--probably the flock--but it sounded so far off. My eyelids started spazzing out, flickering open and closed so fast it was like I was looking into a room of strobe lights.

Suddenly I was aware of a pair of hands, one resting on my shoulder and the other lying on top of my own hand, covered in blood as it was at my side.

"I can't believe you actually thought I'd play fair," Con said quietly, laughing to himself. Something rose in my throat and my entire body thrashed as I puked up some blood. And, of course, once I started I couldn't stop coughing. You know when you start coughing so hard you can barely breathe, and your eyes start watering like you're about to cry? That's what it was like. Only I hadn't had any breath to begin with. And rather than spit or phlegm being caught in my throat, it was blood.

"We said no guns and no powers," Con reminded me, almost whispering now. "There was nothin' about knives." His left hand tightened on my shoulder while his right hand fixed my own around the handle of the knife. With a vicious twist, he yanked it out. (That's what she said. Haaaa. . .)

I think I screamed. How, I don't really know.

My legs bent and I curled up into a fetal position, still hacking up blood, still unable to breathe. My vision started to go gray and fuzzy.

Con laughed at me.

"You lose, Spark!"

* * *

_He'd finally done it._

Con straightened up and wiped his knife on the hem of his shirt, feeling more elatedly satisfied than he'd been in a long time, if ever before. _He'd finally killed Spark_.

And she would die, too--no doubt about it this time. He'd stabbed upwards, probably nicking her spleen as he pierced her left lung. It had deflated instantly, cutting off her breath; and after he'd pulled the knife out, it flooded with blood. Very soon, she would die from lack of oxygen. And never again would he have to think about her.

"Con, watch out!" Shadow suddenly cried, and he turned, but not quick enough--the dark hybrid, Fang, was on him, roundhouse-kicking him in the side.

Con fell back, tripping over Spark's body. His head cracked back against the floor of the cave, but he barely missed a beat. Before Fang could attack him, Con broke into his mind and began the torture.

Fang hissed in pain as he stopped, clutching his head and bending almost double in pain. Con backed up and got to his feet, glancing around the rest of the cave to take in the scene. Shadow and the youngest girl, Angel, were rolling around on the ground, trading weak blows as the little black freak dog tried to get in and bite Shadow; and the blind one, Iggy, was surprisingly holding his own as Swift's combat partner.

As Con's eyes swept over the interior of the cave, Angel (who'd just kneed Shadow hard enough so she could momentarily escape him) turned to look at him. Her eyes went wide, but then her brow furrowed in anger. Con heard something like a snap in his mind and next thing he knew Fang was slamming him to the wall.

Using her own mental powers, Angel had disabled Con's ability to torture the mind.

Fang buried his fist in Con's stomach, and all of Con's breath left him in a big _oof_. Fang got in a few more punches before Con could bring up an arm to shove him away. Fang reeled back, nearly tripped over Spark (who was lying still, looking very small and crumpled and close to death if she wasn't dead already), and disappeared.

Con swore, and wished that he, too, could disable others' powers. But rather than dwell on it, Con closed the distance between him and Spark, eyes darting around the cave floor for his knife. It'd fallen from his grip sometime during the scuffle--

_"A-a-ahh!"_ He cried out in surprise and pain as something sharp dragged across his back right side, just above the waistband of his jeans. Con stumbled forward and fell to his knees, his hand flying to the wound. Blood soaked his fingers.

"Not so great when it happens to you, is it?" Fang practically snarled. Con glanced around, but didn't see him--then something slammed into his stomach and he fell to the ground.

He was kicked several more times before he was able to swing his foot around and knock Fang's feet from under him, making Fang become visible once again and fall to the floor. He would've attacked, but outside forces intervened--Iggy, from across the cave, kicked a rock that hit Con in the face, knocking his teeth in and filling his mouth with blood. He cursed and picked up the rock to chuck it back. . .

. . .but a small _clack-clack-clack_ing sound made him turn his head toward the cave's entrance. Shadow had attacked Angel again (the dog was nowhere in sight), but just beyond them was something round and black and smoking.

He saw the spark, and heard the hiss.

"Bomb," he mumbled, eyes going wide. He scrambled to his feet and started to run. "Shadow, _move_!"

"Huh?" Shadow's fist halted before it could deliver a punch to Angel's face, and both children looked back at Con.

"Move, you idiot, move!" Con shouted. "It's a bomb!"

"Wha--shit!" Shadow leaped back off of Angel and ran, colliding with Con just as everybody else noticed what was going on.

"Angel!" Fang yelled, launching himself forward and yanking the girl up into his arms.

"Everybody down!" Iggy hollered, dropping to the floor.

Con's ears popped and he shut his eyes, bracing himself for the--

_BOOOMMM!_

A wave of heat slammed Con's back, and he was pelted with molten shrapnel. Almost instantly his nose filled with smoke, and he started coughing.

"Wh-what's going. . .on?" Shadow choked out. Con had turned so as to shield the younger boy from most of the blast, but the thick, foggy gray smoke was everywhere. "Who did that?!"

"I don't know," he replied, looking back over his shoulder. Random shafts of sunlight were trying to poke through the fog, but with little effect. He could barely see anything, and though he heard the others moving around and talking he couldn't tell where they were.

Dark shapes dropped down towards where Con assumed the front of the cave was--dark shapes that instantly swarmed about, seeking out their victims. One of the bigger ones aimed straight for him and Shadow.

Con stood, dragging Shadow up with him, and pushed the younger boy away. "Get out of here!" he snapped, and, coughing again, Shadow nodded and ran blindly for the mouth of the cave.

The blurry shape swung at Con and he blocked it, but then something slammed into his back, right at the base of his spine. He was almost instantly hit again in the back of the head and in between his wings--the three blows together made spots of light dance in front of his eyes. He staggered, and another hit to the skull made him fall and pass out.

* * *

*et toi (ey twa)? = and you?

but other than that, just three words:

dun dun duuuunnnnn!

and, uh, fifteen more--'cuz actually, _this_ is the longest chapter to date. of _when they chase us_, anyway.


	9. Chapter 9

so? who launched the surprise attack on con? any last guesses? no?

well, okay then. i guess i'll just have to tell ya.

disclaimer: don't own maximum ride.

* * *

_**9. misery loves its company**_

"Easy," Joey said warningly as Con collapsed, unconscious, the the floor of the cave. "Hurt him too bad and he might not wake up."

Dylan rolled his ruby-like eyes, cracking the knuckles on his left hand--Con had a pretty hard head. "Tch. I barely even touched him."

Joey's dark eyes flashed and narrowed, his lips turning downwards in a scowl. He turned away, mumbling, "Jackass."

Dylan smirked. Neither of the eldest cat hybrids were happy that he'd taken over from his alter, Project Poseidon. (Ariel, on the other hand, had been thrilled).) They were probably annoyed that _this_ guy wouldn't help them sabotage the mission and allow Spark to get away. Poseidon--or "Sy," as they'd called him--would've done it in a heartbeat. Idiot was crazy about her.

Their mind worked a bit like that of a person with multiple personality disorder--two separate characters in the same body, each triggered by certain events. Having been vaguely aware of what was going on as Poseidon attended that meeting with the Director, Dylan had reasoned that it would be fun to track and take out the bird kids. So he'd taken over. And as much as Poseidon tried to regain control, he'd always been stronger.

"Dylan!" Frankie called shortly from the entrance of the cave. "We've only got five up here!"

Dylan nudged the unconscious Con with his shoe. "Constantine makes six," he replied. "And the others went after the rest. Who's missing?"

"Um. . .the blond girl," Nixie said after a slight pause. "Spark."

Dylan went stiff as he felt Poseidon's presence increase. _Spark. . .no. Get _back_, dammit! _He took a deep breath and fought it back.

"Well, it's not like we can just leave without her," he said irritably. "She's the reason we're doing this. Find her."

He turned around slowly, eyes narrowed so he could try and see through the dissipiating smoke. At first he didn't see anything, but then. . .

A cold smile curled over Dylan's lips. He walked a few steps towards the back of the cave and was soon staring down at the previously missing quarry.

Spark was curled up into a pathetic little ball, her shirt soaked with blood, her eyes closed, the rest of her face very white and very still. She wasn't moving.

He heard something like a click in his mind, and for a second Poseidon's presence was so overwhelming he almost lost control. Seeing _her_ this way was triggering an immense freak-out.

But Dylan shook his head, once again pushing _him_ back. "U-uh. . .found her!" he called back. He knelt down and went to feel for a pulse. "Might be dead, though. . ." he added to himself in a mumble.

As soon as his fingers brushed her cool skin, Spark shivered: a tiny half-breath rattled through her blood-spattered lips and her eyelids twitched.

"Oh." Dylan frowned. "Guess not."

The smoke was fading fast now, and he guessed that the other half of the team--Ariel, Eugene, Aliza, Molly, Tony, and Lenny--were in the process of capturing the rest of the bird-kids, if they hadn't already. There was a van waiting not too far away; the two groups would meet up and then drive the bird-kids to the coast, where the Director was waiting to see them off to London.

As he gathered the limp girl into his arms, Dylan guessed that Spark would die very, very soon. Almost as if to prove his point, she jerked violently once he lifted her--her shoulders wracked and a few spatters of blood escaped her mouth. He frowned in distaste as more blood seeped from her side, soaking through even to his own shirt.

_You can't let her die!_

Dylan's head jerked as Poseidon's frantic voice needled through the blockade in their mind. He tried to ignore it--just as he always did--but the alter wouldn't let it go.

_Don't you _dare_ let her die! Save her, please! I swear, if you do I. . .I won't fight you anymore!_

_Oh, yeah right,_ Dylan thought scathingly. _Soon as she's good you'll break out and help the freaks escape. No way._

_Come on, _please!_ She can't die, not yet! The. . .the Director will get mad! She said to bring them back alive, didn't she? You won't get paid for it if Spark dies!_

_FINE! I'll heal her! Good _God_, just _shut up!

"S--er, Dylan? Come on, we should go, the van's waiting."

Dylan glanced up at Aqua, who was hesitating at the mouth of the cave--the others had started their way back already. She had one bird-kid slung over her shoulder and a second cradled in her other arm, though in spite of the load she was hardly exerting herself, Dylan knew. Aqua was the strongest yet among the fish hybrids, and not just for her age, gender, and size. But what _did_ make her eyebrows leap was the sight of the dying Spark in his arms.

"Whoa, what happened to _her_?" she asked, blinking once before glancing up at him. "Did you. . .?"

"I didn't _do_ anything," Dylan snapped. "She was already like this." He let out a breath and strode out of the cave, past Aqua and not in the direction of the van.

"H-hey, where're you--" Aqua began.

"It'll be annoying if she dies," he called back. "I'll find a river and catch up."

And before she could stop him he took off running.

* * *

It didn't take long at all for Dylan to find a small stream through the woods. Spark coughed again, spitting up more blood. A light wind passed over the water and she began to shiver.

Dylan knelt and lay her down flat. Then he lifted her shirt slightly, peeling blood-soaked fabric away from skin so he could inspect the wound.

Her skin was incredibly pale, almost sickly in this light. Her stomach barely rose and fell with breath--he only noticed if he stared for a really long time. And there. . .just a half-dozen inches beneath the wound was a black mark, a tattoo: the image of a horse. One of Poseidon's memories flickered across his mind fleetingly.

Dylan shut his eyes and shook his head to banish the mental image. He just had to fix her, and then Poseidon would shut up. He took his eyes off the tattoo and moved them up toward the knife wound.

It wasn't clean, and looked very deep--as if the knife had gone all the way in up to its handle. And it was angled as well: if he thought it possible it could've been self-inflicted.

Dylan brushed his fingers over the area, and goosebumps rose on Spark's skin. The wound was still bleeding.

With his other hand, he reached toward the stream--freshwater, but it would do--and after barely a moment's concentration about a liter of water rose from the current. The water formed a rope-like shape that came and twisted around Dylan's arm, drawn to him by the flick of his wrist. It shifted until it covered his hand, then shimmered; the water ceased to be transparent and turned silver.

He passed one finger--the forefinger--over Spark's wound, and all the blood disappeared. The silver liquid fell limp and began to drip from that finger.

He moved on to his middle finger, touching this one to the wound itself. Spark jerked violently as the silver water vanished inside her, her back arching as it did what Dylan intended--that is, follow the path of the knife and mend everything that had been injured.

He switched to the third finger, and the silver on that one also went inside the jagged hole the knife had made. This time, the water rushed into the pierced lung, clearing it of blood. Spark coughed, and this time silver was mixed in with the crimson that flew from her mouth.

And, at last, the pinky--a light brush across the hole to seal it, embedding flecks of silver into new skin.

Then, as an afterthought, the thumb as well passed over what was left of the injury, and the silvery substance swirled over the scar in an interesting pattern that looked more like another tattoo than anything else.

Spark shuddered, then relaxed. Her chest rose with the first full breath of air she'd taken in maybe twenty whole minutes.

Dylan sat back, a dull pain swarming over his head. _There. Happy?_

He heard Poseidon breathe a sigh of relief. _Thank you._

_Whatever. Just shut up._

Poseidon's presence faded, and Dylan leaned back on his hands, closing his eyes and tilting his face to the sky. Having used so much power left him feeling tired. He could afford to rest a little. . .and the sun was warm today. . .

The sound of Spark's deep, even breathing was calming, in a way. Slow and rhythmic, in and out. . .unless that was just Poseidon's relief creeping through to his consciousness.

He soon lost track of time, completely lost in the soft sound of the stream, the endless pace of Spark's lungs at work. After what felt like no time at all (though in reality was maybe even two hours later, making it almost three p.m.), the wind picked up again, and with it, he heard Spark's breath falter a moment. Then she took a long, deep breath. . .

The kind of breath people take when they're about to wake up.

* * *

At almost six-forty-five precisely, five adults and a little under two dozen children met at a dock a few miles down the road from a small town on the Georgia coast. Just behind the three men and two women was a small boat, and ten miles or so out on the water was a very large cruise ship.

Standing across from the adults were the children--half of them, at least. The other half were lying unconscious in a type of pile at the feet of one of the women, the shorter of the two.

"One, two, three, four. . ." Lilith Dicus counted the bodies that had been dumped at her feet rather uncerimoniously. Once she reached eleven, she frowned. "Why is there one missing?" she demanded, eyes flicking up to rake over her special task force. "And where's Westerfield?"

The kids all looked at each other, and one of the fish hybrids looked down.

"You," Dicus barked, but the girl didn't flinch. "Where is Dylan Westerfield?"

Everybody turned to stare at the girl--Dicus recalled the others having called her "Aqua." And beneath the bill of her black cap, Dicus saw a faint blush tint Aqua's cheeks.

"H-he said he'd catch up," she mumbled. "He took Spark to--"

"He _what?_"

This time Aqua flinched; but then she looked up, scowling. "I _said_ he took Spark. And had you let me _finish_, I would've _also_ said he took her so he could _heal _her. She'd been stabbed or shot or something, and you said to bring them all back alive! He was just doing what you told us all to do!"

Despite that, Dicus still wasn't pleased. "Why didn't you go with him? There's a chance he took her and ran away! According to my sources, he's done something similar before."

"Yes, because that was _our_ fault," said a second girl--Dicus remembered this was Nixie. "We _forced _him to come up with a crazy plan to get Spark to Chicago, and _then _we decided he should run away with her now, too, so he can personally take her to London. Damn, Director, how'd ya see through it?"

A few snickers, and angry red patches flared up on Dicus' face. She opened her mouth to retort when the single female cat hybrid went still. Not ten seconds later, a breath of wind passed over the dock and their group had two more: Dylan Westerfield and the last avian, Spark.

The boy was panting as he walked forward and knelt to deposit the girl beside Constantine, the leader of the Chicago flock. He stayed down for a second to catch his breath, then stood again. Without sparing Dicus the least bit of notice, he turned and joined the others.

"Late, much?" the second-eldest cat, Frankie, muttered loudly.

"Had you _waited_ I wouldn't've been _late_," Dylan snapped back. "You know how long it took to get here on foot? While carrying _her_, no less?" Dylan gestured toward Spark.

Dicus frowned. To Dylan, she said, "You had no right to treat the target without permission. Your payment for this mission will be reduced."

Dylan scoffed, rolling his eyes.

To the rest, Dicus said, "You did quite well, considering. When we meet in London I will have your money ready."

"Hey, I got a question," piped up the youngest in the group, a cat hybrid. Lenny? No, Tony. "How come we don't just fly 'em out ta London? Why d'we gotta take a ship?"

None of the children said anything, looking to Dicus with various levels of amusement in their expressions. Obviously, they'd all wondered about her plan.

"That is none of your business. I hired you to follow my orders. Nothing more, nothing less," Dicus said crisply. Then she snapped her fingers. "Jones."

"Yes, Director?" One of the three men behind her took half a step forward. He--along with the other two men, North and Macmillan, and the woman, Stadtfield--would travel with all the hybrids to make sure nothing. . ._happened_ during the trip.

"Put the two rats in the same cage," she said quietly, flicking her hand at Spark and Constantine. "The rest of the vermin can be put into another. When they wake, I want you to document how they. . ._react_."

"Yes, ma'am."

* * *

"Max, wake up. Max!"

Angel's voice made my head hurt, but I endured it. I'd been through wor--wait, _Angel?_

I forced my eyes open and sat up. In my first quick glance around the room (which was more like the kinds of interrogation rooms you saw on cop shows), I noticed my flock, minus Spark, was passed out still. I felt a weight on my wrist and looked down to find a manacle on my arm, connected to a chain that tethered me to the wall. _What is this? What happened to us?!_

In one image-filled flashed, it all came screaming back--the running from Blaze and Avi, and the net, and the smoke bomb, and the weirdly-shaped figures that ran out from the cover of the forest to knock us all out. . .

"Max?"

I looked up again, finding Angel's incredibly blue eyes staring up into mine. Her round little face was clean, for once, as was her hair. I inspected myself and found I was clean as well.

"Max," Angel repeated.

I shook myself free of my thoughts. "Angel," I said without preamble, "where are we?"

"I don't know, Max," she told me sadly. She scooted across the floor to huddle into my side. "But it's bad."

"What happened to you and Fang?" I asked. "How come you guys are here too?"

"They caught up to us," she told me, her voice quavering. "Swift, I mean. And then we ran into Spark and Iggy and Total, and then Con and Shadow and Swift found us, and then. . .and then. . ." Tears began to fall down Angel's face, and she sniffled. "And then Con challenged Spark to a fight, and then he stabbed her with a knife, and then I had to fight with Shadow and then they threw a bomb into the cave and somebody hit me and I was knocked out, and then. . ."

"Shh, shh," I said soothingly, hugging her. I rubbed Angel's back and waited for the tears to subside somewhat. "What did you mean by 'they'? Who threw the bomb?"

"I-I don't know," Angel said. "I didn't hear them until right before the bomb, and it was just a bunch of jumbled thoughts. I couldn't tell who it was."

"That's okay," I said, quashing my frustration. "That's okay, sweetie. Just cal--"

Then, all of a sudden, something from across the room made a noise.

Angel and I both went very still. I thought I'd gotten a good look around, and hadn't seen anybody but the flock, but I'd been wrong.

Because, over on the other side of the room, something _moved_. Moved and sat upright.

She groaned softly, raising a hand to hold her head. I recognized the bright red streak amid the black spiky hair.

Turned out there were four other occupants in this room.

Blaze, Swift, Shadow, and Avi.

Con's flock.

* * *

_Punt. Pant. Rant. Runt. Hunt. Hint. Tint. Tiny. Tine. Time. Mime. Mine. Mind. Which is what I'm losing. Greeaaat. . ._

Con let out a breath and opened his eyes to stare at the ceiling, the word game trickling out of his head. He'd regained consciousness a while ago--not long enough for him to get really annoyed, but long enough to get bored.

He wondered vaguely where the others were. Had they gotten captured as well? All he knew was that he'd been captured--nothing else. He'd been in this cell the entire time, so he hadn't had any chances to see if anybody else was here with him.

And he wondered where _here_ was, exactly. It looked like one of the cells in the Factory, but pretty much all of Itex's branches had rooms like this. And without knowing how long he'd been out, he could be just about anywhere.

Con's eyes raked the ceiling again, and were once again drawn to the vent grate in the corner. The bed was bolted to the floor, but he bet he could maybe jump up that high. Maybe break the screws. Escape? Con sighed, closing his eyes again. He folded one arm beneath his head--the other was in a manacle, chaining him to the wall. If anything, he'd have to get out of the manacle fir--

From the other side of the wall he heard a faint _boom_, like that of a door. He remained on the cot he'd been dumped onto until the door to the cell opened.

Sitting up, he stretched; the chain on his wrist rattled and clanked as he moved. "Wow. Hospitality here's kickin'. Chains and everything."

Con glanced sideways at the three figures entering the room--two kids who looked like twins and an unconscious person between them.

The girl, who was wearing a hat, said, "Ick. He's awake." Con recognized Aqua's voice.

"So?" said the other--her twin brother, Arthur. "We just dump her, unlock him, and leave. That's it."

"Ooh, I'm getting a roommate?" Con asked sarcastically, leaning back against the wall. "Fun. Who is it? And if it's a girl, _please_ tell me she's hot."

The fish twins ignored him momentarily as they set their captive down on the floor. Arthur stood up and crossed over to Con, but Aqua stayed down at the girl's side.

As Arthur unlocked Con's manacle, Aqua touched the girl's arm. "Well, her temperature's normal. Sorry."

Con rolled his eyes; then, as Aqua stood, he peered through her feet at the girl lying on the floor.

His heart stopped and the bottom of his stomach seemed to vanish, leaving a horrid empty feeling in his gut.

"Why the hell would you bring me a dead body?" he asked tightly, glaring up at Arthur. The boy shrugged and turned toward the door.

"Hey!" Con snapped out his leg and kicked Arthur in the small of the back--he stumbled forward. "Why the hell is _that_ here? She's dead, that's just weird!"

Arthur tossed a glare over his shoulder before leaving. Aqua made to follow, but paused at the door.

"She's not dead yet, dude," she said, nodding at Spark. Then she snickered, shaking her head as she, too, left the room. "She's not dead yet."

Con's eyes popped wide and he stared at the door, fighting the urge to look around and. . ._check_.

_No. She's dead. She _has_ to be dead! I killed her, for God's sake!_ _There's no way she could still be alive! What the hell are they trying to pull?! Not dead yet my ass!!_

". . .Ah. . ."

_. . .Shit._ Con wrenched his eyes from the door and looked toward the corner of the room.

Spark was stirring. _Breathing_. Trying to get up.

_She was alive._

* * *

. . .huh. for once i don't really have much to say. ah well. hope ya liked the chapter.


	10. Chapter 10

guess what? in two days i'll have been on fanfiction for a whole year! woo!

disclaimer: don't own maximum ride.

* * *

_**10. do what you have to do**_

Very slowly, the darkness began to recede.

I realized I could _sense_ again--I could feel the cool cement beneath me, hear the ringing silence of whatever room I was in. My whole body ached.

_Cement? Silence? Wait a. . ._ I went into high-alert, wondering just where the hell I was now. After Con had. . .well, you know. . .I'd, like, checked out of my body for a while. It'd been kinda weird--like, I had a vague idea of what had gone on around me, but not really. It's hard to explain.

But then I'd woken up in some weird little clearing next to a stream, and Sy had been there--only he hadn't been Sy, exactly. He'd been. . .red-eyed Sy. Artist formerly known as Sy.

Or, so it's easier to distinguish them: Dylan.

I held very still, keeping my eyes shut tight as I tried to remember what had happened after the. . ._incident_ in the cave and before this. In the clearing.

_It'd been like just a few seconds ago: the gradual awareness of my surroundings, the realization that I was actually alive and breathing. (Ah, breathing. To be able to fill your lungs to their complete capacity with fresh, clean, life-giving air. . .ahhhh. 'Tis a sensation I won't be taking for granted again for a while, if ever. But anyway. . .) I could hear the light rush of running water, feel a slight breeze over my skin. I could tell I wasn't in the cave anymore--I was outside, in open air._

_It was only after I sat up that I knew I wasn't completely healed--pain had exploded in my side so intensely I'd nearly passed out again. Then I heard Sy._

_At least, I thought it was Sy--he was sitting back against a tree, head bowed over so I couldn't see his face. His hands were all twisted in his shiny silver hair, like he had an overwhelming migraine. He was muttering something; I barely caught words like, "No, no, no," and "get out, get out, get out!"_

_Despite my first impression--that he'd suddenly gone schizo on me--and despite that I'd been pissed at him for leaving me--again--I was happy as hell to see him._

_"S-Sy!" I said, wincing as a light pain wave passed through my chest. I scrambled to my knees and moved closer to him. "Sy, you have no idea how happy I am to. . .see. . .you."_

_My voice trailed off as he ignored me. His muttering continued, and he really did sound like a crazy person: "Get out of my head, get out of my head!"_

_"Sy?" I touched his shoulder and he flinched._

_"Get away from me!" he yelled, so forcefully that I jumped._

_"Sy! What the--"_

_"I said get _away_!" he repeated. My eyes went wide as he started to rock back and forth, still holding his head, beginning to talk to himself._

_"You bastard, you said you wouldn't fight me!"_

_"Yeah, well, I lied!"_

_"Get back in my head, dammit!"_

_"No, _you _get back!"_

_"Dammit, dammit, dammit!"_

_"Sy, you're freaking me out!" I said loudly. He continued to mutter crazily to himself until I lost my patience and smacked him upside the head. "Snap out of it!!" I yelled at him._

_He almost toppled over sideways, but flung out his hand in time to keep himself up. Then Sy shook his head, trying to orient himself--I got to my feet, all positive feelings about seeing him again evaporating._

_"Look, I don't know what's going on with you, but you'd better pull yourself together before I kick your ass!" I snapped. Sy's head barely lifted; I could see part of his face, but not his eyes. "Now, I'm pretty sure Con and them have the flock, so we have to find them and save them! So get up!"_

_There was maybe a millisecond of silence before Sy sprang into action. His foot snapped out and took out my ankles, sending me to my knees. Then he leapt up and tackled me back to the ground before I could regain my footing._

_"OW!" I shouted, instinctively beginning to struggle. It wasn't much of a fight, though--my arms were stuck at my sides, and my shoulders were pinned to the ground, and no matter how hard I kicked I couldn't come in contact with anything. Plus, my strength hadn't fully recovered from my fight with Con. "What the hell was that for?! Let me go!!"_

_Sy chuckled and I glared up at him. Then I froze: his eyes weren't blue. Rather, they were red. Like rubies. Like Ariel's eyes. Like a monster's eyes._

_"Sorry, Sparky. No can do," Dylan said, smirking coldly. He lifted one hand from my shoulder and used a finger to tilt up my chin. "Poseidon's not in control anymore; I am."_

_I jerked my head away from his hand, and then did something I haven't done to a kid since I was still in the foster care system: I bit his fingers._

_"Ah!!" Dylan jerked his hand out of my mouth, expression twisting from cold and cocky to pissed and in pain. "God, you stupid. . .!"_

_"Go to hell!" I yelled, spitting at him. Then I raised my voice, as if sheer volume could make it through Dylan's head and back to Sy. "And Sy, if you let him kill me I'll haunt you for the rest of your life!!"_

_Dylan jerked as he grabbed up a rock. His free hand came up to grab his head as his red irises shimmered, turning blue for just the slightest second._

_But then it passed, and he slammed the rock into the side of my head. "He's not gonna have a life for you to haunt!"_

And then I'd woken up here, in this stupid cell, with no idea where I was, how long I'd been out, or even if I had any friends nearby.

I let out a small, slightly pathetic groan as I pushed myself up. My head was throbbing and I touched my temple--I felt dried blood stuck to my skin and in my hair. Gross.

There was a slight shuffle and I looked up--my eyes found a pair of scruffy track shoes I was all too familiar with. I instantly tensed.

"Constantine, you have two seconds to commit suicide," I said evenly, my knuckles turning white as I clenched my fists. "And if you don't, I'm going to kill you."

"You're. . .you're supposed to be dead," Con said haltingly.

"That's _it!_" I snarled, and then I ignored my pain and hurled myself at him.

* * *

Spark moved faster than he could react, slamming into him so hard he lost his breath for a second. Then she spun and kicked him, and Con reeled back into one of the walls of the cell. She aimed a punch at him, and he dodged it, but it was only a feint--she socked him hard in the gut and he almost doubled over, once again trying to get a breath of air.

Then Spark pinned him to the wall, her forearm like an iron bar across his neck, crushing his trachea. He gagged and she relented--but barely.

"I agreed to a fair fight back in that cave, Con. And you. _Cheated_," Spark said slowly. "And for that, you have to endure a penalty game. I call it, 'How Long Does it Take for Me to _Strangle_ You Until You _Die!'_ "

"That's kinda a mouthful, don't you thi--gck!" Con coughed as Spark's arm tightened across his throat, sliding him up the wall until he was barely on tiptoe.

"Give me _ooonne_ reason, Con," Spark said softly. "Just one reason why I shouldn't murder you right here and right now." She lessened the pressure on his neck so he could speak.

Con glared at her. "K-killing me right now just isn't worth it," he said, his voice rasping. "Whoever's in charge will just kill you, too."

"That's not a good enough reason!" Spark snarled, eyes burning with rage. "I've escaped before, and I can do it again!!"

"Not without help!" Con snapped. "You're just not that good on your own, I _know _you had help every time you escaped us! So unless you have a death wish, killing me would be useless!"

Spark went as still as a statue. After a long, long moment, she dropped her arm; Con's feet came back to the floor and he coughed again, rubbing his neck.

"Fine," Spark mumbled, stepping back. Con thought she was going to turn away and ignore him, but instead she doubled back and kicked him where he did not like to be kicked.

_"Shit!"_

* * *

Con's surprised yell of pain soothed my fury some. I let out a breath and allowed myself a tiny smirk--beating people up has always relaxed me. (Again, I wonder at the word "sadistic". . .)

He dropped to his knees, hunching over as he tried not to vocalize his pain. I turned away, my eyes darting about to inspect the cell. It was the usual--four walls, designed by somebody who is either color-blind or just wants everybody else to be. I crossed over to the wall and lay my hand upon it--my fingers tingled, and I somehow knew the black paint was at least semi-metallic.

It was almost a full minute before I heard Con gingerly get to his feet, and I could just feel the death glares stabbing at my back.

"Wh-what are you. . .doing here?" Con finally asked, his tone forcibly calm.

"I am here to steal all the spots off the hundred and one Dalmatians so Cruella cannot turn them into coats," I said absently, turning my back to the wall and leaning back against it. "Why? Did you think I'd been kidnapped or something?"

"Will you be serious for five seconds?!" Con demanded angrily. "I _meant_ what are you doing here _alive_? I killed you, I know I did!"

I narrowed my eyes. "I wouldn't remind me of that if I were you," I said frostily. "Or I may just have to do more than kick you."

"Look, we've already established that killing me won't do anything for you!" Con snapped. "Let me just find out what happened, okay? How the hell did you survive?"

"None of your bee's guts," I retorted defensively. Last thing I needed was for somebody to know Dylan had issues keeping his head around me--if anybody found out, they might keep him from me, and there goes any chance I have of escaping. Con was right--I _would_ need help if I had to get out of here.

"I stabbed you right here," Con said, jabbing a thumb at the spot where I'd been knifed. "And because I stabbed _up_, your lung should have _collapsed _and you should have _died!_ So how the _hell_ did you _survive_?!"

"Through the power of. . .friendship?" I guessed. Con's fists clenched in anger, so I went on. "Yeah, friendship. The magical bonds between me and all my friends has healed me! Take that, medical science!"*

"Oh, my. . .seriously? How do you even function?!" Con asked exasperadedly, staring at me like I was something far freakier than a girl with wings. "What is your problem with answering a direct question?!"

"I think it's psychological," I said after a pause. "And having something to do with my childhood. Perhaps it's my way screwing the rules of normal conversation."

"They did this on purpose," Con said, more to himself than me. "They want to drive me insane. Well, that's just perfect, because I'm already halfway there!!"

It cheered me even more to see Con in turmoil such as that in which he was now--he laughed almost hysterically to himself as he turned and paced to the wall behind him, banging his forehead once against it. He was still for a second, and then he took a deep breath as if to compose himself.

Turning back to me, he said, "If we're going to get out of here, I need to be sane. So stop. F*cking. Annoying me. Okay?"

"I shall try to restrain myself," I said lightly, smirking. Con raised his hand as if he wanted to jump across the room to smack me, but (with what seemed like an effort) he refrained from doing so.

"Like that," he said tightly. "Don't do that. And if you won't tell me how you didn't die, will you at least tell me how you hit your head? 'Cuz I know _I_ didn't do it."

A myriad of silly retorts flickered through my mind, but through sheer force of will I ignored them. "I, uh, don't remember," I lied. "Maybe it happened while they kidnapped me." I reached up and I rubbed the side of my hand against my head, trying to wipe the blood away. "Man, one of these days I'm gonna be more scar than skin," I grumbled to myself.

"That's not gonna scar, so stop complaining," Con said, rolling his eyes. Then he glanced at me and jerked his chin. "You missed a spot."

"Where?" I dragged my knuckles over my temple, then inspected my hand. I frowned and wiped the blood off on my jeans.

"Still there," Con said dully, putting his hands in his pockets and leaning back against the wall.

"Where?!" I whirled around to inspect myself in the one-way mirror that usually dominated one of the walls only to find myself staring at a large expanse of nothing. _Huh--that's weird,_ I thought, momentarily forgetting about the supposed blood on my face. _If there's no window, how can they watch us? Unless there's a camera. . ._

"It's right there, by your eye," Con told me, zapping me out of my thoughts.

"Fine," I said absently, brushing my fingers over the corner of my eye, looking up and around to the upper corners of the room. _Then again, if it's a camera then it's probably too small to see. They'd want us to think we're alone._

"Seriously? Just wipe it off. It'll bug me if you don't."

"Mm." I dimly registered Con's words as I moved toward the corner to his right, eyes on the ceiling. Was it just me, or was there a little shiny spot amid the black and cloudy gray?

"Okay, what are you doing?" Con said irritably, hastily distancing himself from me.

"No mirror means there's gotta be a camera." I squinted up at the ceiling. Yep, that was a lens, all right. "And it's right there," I said, pointing.

"Wooow," Con said, the sarcasm practically pooling on the floor. "Your investigative skills are truly amazing."

"Sarcasm not appreciated," I stated, pressing my hand against the wall. If the paint was semi-metallic, and the camera was vulnerable to electric surges, maybe I could short it out. Though how it would help us was kinda a mystery at the moment. . .

"Noted and ignored. Now, will you please wipe that blood off your face? It's really starting to annoy me."

"Just shut _up_ about the blood already!" I snapped, turning around to glare at him. "Look, like it or not we're kinda trapped here together, so like it or not we're gonna have to work together to figure out a way to escape!"

"Your point?"

"My _point_ is that it would be _helpful_ for you to _think_ of stuff to do to _escape!_" I practically yelled at him. "Rather than giving yourself an ulcer about some stupid blood on my face!" I dragged my hand across the scrape on my head yet another time, wincing as I did it too hard.

"Well, it's kinda hard to think with you fighting everything I say," Con said flatly, eyes narrowing.

"And it's kinda hard to _not _fight everything you say," I replied. He frowned at me and, for maybe the first time, I felt a little guilty. "Sorry."

Con blinked, taken off guard by my apology. ". . .Okay," he said slowly, for lack of anything else to say. Then, eyeing me warily, he said, "Um, if we want to get out of here, we should just wait around for a while, and, um, see if anybody comes by to--okay, I'm sorry, but it's bugging the freaking hell out of me!"

"What?" I asked in surpise.

"That stupid trickle of blood! Please, just wipe it _away_!"

I bit my lip to keep from laughing at him. "It's annoying you that much?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"No, it's. . .ah, just let me do it!" Con said, taking a half-step forward and raising his hand.

"Na-ah-ah-ah-ah," I said, taking a hasty step back--I didn't have much room, so I bumped into the wall. "No no no. You are going to stay away from me, got it?"

"Oh, come on, what am I gonna do?" Con demanded, rolling his eyes. "_My_ killing _you_ won't do any good right now either."

"So? I can get it myself!" I dragged the heel of my hand across my temple again.

Con's jaw clenched. "Well, apparently _not_, because it's still _there._ Now will you just let me get it before I go insane?"

"Geez, OCD, much?" I asked sarcastically, lowering my hand. I tried not to flinch away as Con used his sleeve to clean away the last of the blood.

As soon as he was finished, I hurriedly sidestepped around him and increased the distance between us. With a slight shudder, I said, "Never do that again, okay? Ever. It's weird when you're not hurting me."

"Deal," Con said shortly. Then, he cracked a smirk. "And for the record, that's what she said."

"Oh, my. . .good God, would you grow up?" I cried, rolling my eyes and turning my back on him. "We're supposed to be figuring a way out of here!" In spite of myself, though, I smiled. For like a second.

"Oh, yeah, this coming from the girl who once said 'missed me, missed me, now you gotta kiss me'?" Con prompted.

I turned back around, ready to retort, then paused as I tried to remember when I'd said that. _Oh, yeah._ "I was high on sugar when I said that. Doesn't count. And before, I _meant_ that ever since I met you, all you've done is try to kill me. And I'd like to keep it that way, so. . .yeah. No more touching."

"I have _not_ always been trying to kill you," Con said defensively.

"Capture, kill, same diff. Let's just leave it at that."

"Fine."

"Fine." I took a deep, calming breath before crossing my arms and propping myself up against a wall. "Now, how long d'you think it'll take for somebody to come talk to us?"

"Hm. Well, if it were me, I'd let us stew in here for a while. An hour, maybe two."

I frowned. "Ick. What're we supposed to do until then?"

". . .Uh. . ."

* * *

*yu-gi-oh abridged reference! haha. . .

and so we wrap up chapter ten. next chapter will have flock/anti-flock interaction, promise. (and how well d'ya think max and blaze will get along?)


	11. Chapter 11

check out the newest poll on my profile. it's actually important for what may or may not happen later in the story ;)

disclaimer: don't own maximum ride.

* * *

_**11. better on our own. . .?**_

Blaze put her hand to her head as a wave of pain swam over her skull. _Geez_, she thought. _Nobody's hit me that hard since. . ._

"Crap," said a voice somewhere from the other side of the room. "What the heck happened?"

She went on full-alert, having recognized it--the blind kid from Ride's flock. Blaze's head whipped around for the source of the voice, her blue eyes almost immediately focusing on the group of kids huddled together at the other end of the cell.

Ride was watching her, as was the youngest girl, Angel. The rest were still waking up, trying to orient themselves.

"What are you doing here?" Ride asked coldly, glaring at Blaze.

Glaring right back, she snapped, "Admiring the real estate." Not taking her eyes off the enemy, Blaze reached out with her hand to touch Avi. After a moment or two the girl woke and became immediately aware of the situation. As Blaze began to speak again, Avi set to waking the boys.

"What's it _look_ like I'm doing here?" Blaze demanded. "We've been captured, retard, just the same as you! You might as well have asked if the sky was blue!"

"No need to get nasty," said one of Ride's flock, the tall dark one.

"Oh, okay, so even though we've all been kidnapped I need to look on the bright side," Blaze sneered, inspecting her restraints. A simple metal manacle clamped around her ankle, binding her to the wall. Should be simple enough to melt. "Well, when life gives _me_ lemons, I just eat my damn lemons, okay? I deal with it! And to deal with _this_ particular lemon, we need to get the hell out of here!!"

As Blaze focused on melting her chains, she heard a small _click_ behind her, followed by Swift's voice: "I'm out."

"Good," Blaze said, flames sputtering to life over her hand. "Get Shadow out--I'll get Avi once I'm through with mine."

"Hey, how're they. . ." she heard one of the younger ones of Ride's flock ask.

The soft metal of Blaze's manacle began to melt, and after a few more seconds she was able to wriggle her foot free of the wretched thing. Then she turned around and started attending to the handcuff on Avi's wrist, while Swift finally sprung Shadow's lock using one of his hawk talons.

Avi hissed in pain as hot metal burned her wrist, but otherwise didn't complain. She stood up with Blaze and the rest, pausing when they realized Ride and her flock were staring.

Blaze frowned at them. "What? Aren't you guys ready to bust outta here?"

"Um. . .we're kinda stuck," Ride said, lifting her arm and jangling the chain attached to it. "Mind lending a hand?"

Blaze groaned and rolled her eyes. "You guys are so _lame_. Swift, help me free the freaks."

Swift merely nodded as he followed Blaze across the cell. He stopped before Ride and lifted his foot--she got the gist and held out her wrist.

"Don't break a nail," Ride joked halfheartedly. Swift's mouth quirked momentarily.

After about seven or eight minutes, all the bird-kids were free. Ride had just directed the blind kid--she called him Iggy--toward the door to work on picking the lock when the dark one--Fang--spoke up.

"Shouldn't we stay here?"

Everybody looked at him like he was crazy, but then Ride picked up on it.

". . .Right," she said. She looked at Blaze determinedly. "Fang's right. It'd be better to wait a little, see if anybody comes by to tell us what's going on."

"No, we should get out as fast as we can," Blaze argued. "Who cares what's going on? Let's just find Con and get the hell outta here!"

Avi tried to say, "Blaze, maybe they're right," but Blaze ignored her. She turned toward the door of the room and raised her hand, ready to just blast the damn thing open.

"Are you sure he's even here?" Ride asked, raising an inquisitive eyebrow at Blaze.

"Well, if Swift and Shadow are here, then yeah!" Blaze spat, gesturing to the two blond boys. "They were with him, so obviously he's been captured too! Unless he got away?" She turned to look at Shadow and Swift, who both shook their heads.

"Uh-uh," Shadow said. "After he killed Spark, that guy got mad and attacked him--" He pointed over at Fang. "--so we were all fighting, and then the bomb came in and. . ."

"Wait a. . .what was that about Spark?" Max asked sharply.

Shadow smirked maliciously. "Con killed her. Stabbed her right here," he said, pointing at a spot just below his ribcage. "And because she was on top, th' knife probably went up into her lungs, so she's probably dead."

Each of Ride's flock went still, a few of them getting teary-eyed. Blaze looked at Shadow and he frowned. "What?"

"Spark's dead?" she asked.

"Uh-huh."

"And you're _sure_ Con killed her?"

"Yeah." Blaze looked up at Swift, who shrugged a shoulder and nodded.

_So. . .she's really dead,_ Blaze thought, her eyes drifting to stare absently at the floor. _She's finally. . .gone?_

"Spark's not dead!!"

Everybody gave a little start and looked around to the youngest girl, Angel. She furiously rubbed her hands in her eyes before glaring at Shadow. "Spark's not dead!" she repeated forcefully.

"Whaddaya mean not dead?! You saw it, there was blood everywhere!" Shadow exclaimed. "After a while she even stopped breathing! How the hell could she still be alive?!"

"I'd know if she was dead, and she's not!" Angel snapped. "She's somewhere close, I can almost hear her!"

"You're lying," Shadow said, and he made a start at Angel but Blaze put out her hand to keep him back. "Con killed her, he stabbed her!"

"But she's not dead," Angel said again. She looked up at Max, who was right next to her, and said, "I'd _know_, Max. Spark's not dead."

"Uh. . ." Ride didn't seem to have a response. Slightly annoyed by now, Blaze threw up her hands.

"Whatever!" she said loudly. "Who cares right now? What matters is getting out of here!"

"No, Blaze, they're right," Avi said, forcefully enough that Blaze couldn't ignore her. "We really should wait. It's what Con would tell us to do."

Blaze narrowed her eyes, but Avi had that stupid stubborn look on her face, and she knew that nothing would change the younger girl's mind. Not even force. So, annoyed yet again, Blaze spun around and kicked at the wall in frustration. "Fine!" she yelled. "We'll just stay here!"

"Did she kick the wall?" she heard Iggy ask.

"Yep," answered the youngest boy, Gasman.

"Ah. Hope she didn't accidentally break her foot," Iggy replied sarcastically.

Blaze saw Shadow, Swift, and Avi all sort-of shrink away out of the corner of her eye. _They_ knew well enough not to bait her like that. _They_ knew about her temper.

Flames dancing over her fists, Blaze whirled around and hurled a fireball the size of a softball at Iggy. Unfortunately, Gasman yelled and shoved the blind boy away. The fire hit the cement wall, only scorching off some of the dull black paint.

"Can it, blind boy!" she snarled. "Or next time I won't miss!!"

Iggy held up his hands innocently, but he was obviously trying not to smile. "Sorry, sorry. Didn't mean to get you all fired up."

Blaze clenched her fists, and for a second the room seemed to flash with a white light. Her usual sky-blue irises were now mostly silver.

"One more dumbass comment like that," she said threateningly, "and I'll burn you so bad not even your stupid friends would recognize you."

"Oooh. I'm _so _afraid," he taunted. Blaze would've attacked him then and there, but Swift and Avi leaped forward, each grabbing one of her arms. The two younger hybrids struggled to restrain their elder--Swift's talons screeched across the cement rather cacophonously, making just about everybody flinch and cover their ears--for almost twenty seconds before Blaze was able to calm down enough to not want to beat Iggy's head into the floor.

"C-calm down, Blaze," Avi said nervously.

"I should kill him!"

"Not yet," Swift said shortly, inspecting his talons for damage.

"Nice _going_, Iggy!" Ride hissed, smacking said blind hybrid on the arm.

"Ow! What, what'd I do?" Iggy said stupidly.

Shadow snickered. "You're lucky she didn't lose it," the seven-year-old sneered. "Otherwise she'd've beat ya up so bad you wouldn't've woken up 'till next week!"

"Sorry," Ride said to Blaze, throwing a useless glare at Iggy. "Sometimes he's just an idiot."

"Hey!"

"Good luck getting _my_ help now," Blaze said darkly, cracking her knuckles experimentally. "Soon as we're outta here, we're ditching you guys whether you like it or not."

"That's not the best idea," Max said quickly. "If we want to get out of here, we'll--and I can't believe I'm saying this--have to work together. So ignore Iggy for now, and you can smack him later."

Blaze considered arguing, but soon decided against it. If Con were here, she knew, and she'd actually tried to beat Iggy up, he'd only yell at her and say the same thing Max had said. So she took a deep breath and tried to relax.

"Fine," she said coolly. "Work together. Whatever."

"Okay," Max said. "Now, I think we should get a few things straight."

"Such as. . .?"

"Personally, I didn't get a good look at whoever kidnapped us. Do you know who did it?" Max asked. Blaze hesitated for a second, trying to remember. _Oh, right. Those damn fish kids._

"It was the school," Avi said quietly. Blaze tried to glare at her but the younger girl just shrugged. "They might as well know."

"Of _course_ it was the School," Iggy said irritably. "They've been after us for a year now."

"Wha--no, no, not _the_ School," Blaze corrected after a confused pause. "The _school_--the fish hybrids, from Utah. Y'know, like a school of fish?"

"You mean there were more than just Sy?" asked the talkative black girl--Nudge, her name was.

"Duh!" Shadow said, smirking. "There's a whole bunch of 'em."

"Wait, if they're from Utah, what're they doing out here? Why'd they capture us?" Ride demanded.

Blaze shrugged. "Director's orders, probably. Case you hadn't noticed, us winged wonders ain't the cat's meow anymore."

"Nice analogy, considering the cat people were there too," Avi said thoughtfully. Blaze frowned at her again, more questioningly this time. Avi just blinked. "I saw Molly right before they gassed us. And Lenny, too."

"Oh, well _that's_ just perfect," Blaze mumbled, just as the Gasman asked, "Who's Molly and Lenny?"

"Cat hybrids," Swift said softly.

"Huh?" Nudge said. "Like, Catwoman?"

"Kinda. Not as psycho," Blaze said indifferently. "They're from Italy, and they're big on strength and agility. Quicker than the wolf hybrids, maybe a little stronger. Definitely smarter."

"Okay, so we have mermaids _and_ kitty-cats after us now?" Iggy asked dryly. "Wonderful. At first it was just the Erasers, but now it looks like the whole animal kingdom's decided to kill us."

"Looks like it," Fang said quietly.

"Yep," Avi said brightly. " 'Cuz if you include the Director, you're adding miserable old cows to the mix!"

Laughter crackled through the cell, but it ended rather abruptly--as if the thought that laughing symbolized friendliness between the previous mortal enemies.

Max cleared her throat. "So, uh. . .what now?"

* * *

When one is trapped in a cell with next to nothing to do to pass the time, one gets bored very easily. And one also finds ways to rid themselves of boredom quite quickly and effectively.

I flicked my wrist, releasing a slightly-bloodstained business card into the air. It spiraled through the air like a Frisbee, flying across the room to land in my right shoe.

"Nice!" I said, smiling. "Third shoe, twenty points!"

Beside me, Con scoffed and replied, "So what, I'm still beating you."

"Only by ten points, though." I hung back and watched as Con, too, flicked a business card across our cell. It curved and landed inside my other shoe.

"Dammit," Con cursed, and I crossed the cell to retrieve both cards, calling back, "You're only up by fifteen now! Next turn I'm catching up!" (To which his reply was something unfit for print. Use your imagination.)

It'd taken about, oh, two minutes before I was bored out of my mind. So, in hopes of finding something that I could amuse myself with, I checked all my pockets, only finding two business cards: Shawn Hayes's, and Frank the Security Guard's from Windsong Enterprises. Thus inspired, I kicked off my shoes and started flicking the cards at them. Con had insulted my flicking skills and now here we were, competing against each other. Our four shoes were lined up on the other side of the room--my left one was closest, so it was five points; then came his, worth ten; my other shoe, for twenty; and his other shoe, at the highest for forty points.

It may not sound like oodles of fun, but when your other options are nothing, Truth or Dare, and Would You Rather, it's pretty dang appealing. Even after nearly an hour of play.

I returned to the designated flicking point, handing Con his card before turning back to aim for the shoes. If I could hit the third one again, I'd be winning, but only by five, which Con could easily beat. . .I only had three more throws left before the game ended, so to win I'd have to--

"The fact that you look so intent on winning is kinda sad," Con told me. I rolled my eyes.

"Well, you've already beaten me twice," I said, throwing my card. I smiled and congratulated myself silently as it landed inside the forty-pointer. "I don't think I could live with myself if I let you win a third time."

"_Let _me win?" Con echoed skeptically. "Ha!" He tossed Shawn Hayes's business card across the cell, where it bounced off the wall before also landing in the forty-point shoe. "I rock at this!"

"And that in itself is sad," I said mockingly as he went to go retrieve the cards. He gave me a wry look and I snickered, adding, "That you actually took time to train yourself in this skill only furthers my assumption that you have absolutely no life."

"Please," Con said, tossing my card at me. "I have more of a life than _you_ do, I bet."

"Yeah right!" I laughed, throwing once again--I only hit the twenty this time. I turned to Con and smirked. "Your friends consist of a freakish pyro, a bratty kid, and two mute preteens. _Totally_ the life of _every_ party."

"Whereas _your_ friends consist of a _blind _pyro, _two _bratty kids, a chatterbox, a bossy dictator, and a mute goth," Con reeled off. "This is better. . ._how?_"

"Because I have two more friends than you. Three, if you count Total. So there!" I stuck out my tongue childishly.

"Oh, grow up," Con snickered, stepping past me to go retrieve the cards again.

"Just one of the many options as I progress through life," I said airily. He flipped me off and I snickered.

Con was just bending down to retrieve the business cards when he suddenly went still.

I stared at him for a second, but before I could ask what was up he said, "Did you hear that?"

"What?" I asked, seizing an opportunity to be my usual annoying self. "The sound of your soul shattering as you realize you will never be as pretty as me?"

"No, really, shut up a second."

Almost as if by magic, I actually shut up, straining my ears to listen. I heard a momentary _thud_ before the door of the cell burst open, at least four dark-clad, human-sized figures darted into the room.

"Shit!" Con cursed and jumped back as two of the ninja-type things went for him. "Spark, watch it!"

"Huh? Hell!" I whirled around and just barely ducked in time to avoid a punch to the nose. I dropped and threw my shoulder into the person's knees. . .and promptly heard a very metallic _crunch_.

_What the. . .?_ I didn't have time to be confused for long, because no sooner had I wriggled out from beneath the limp body of whoever'd tried to punch me than I felt a fist grab the back of my shirt. I was yanked upright, socked in the stomach, and the almost-fight ended.

Trying to catch my breath back, I struggled against my captors, lashing out at everything within kicking range. I came in contact with something hard and metallic, and pain splintered through my foot. _Damn!_

"Spark, it's no use, just calm down a sec!" I heard Con's dark voice yell at me. "It's probably a scientist!"

I yearned to tell him to shut the hell up and leave me alone, but forced myself to relax. Frustrated, I blew hair out of my face and looked up.

In the doorway stood a man with a clipboard. I glanced over at Con, who, like me, was being held back by two of the weird hooded ninja people. He gave a hard look that I interpreted as _cause trouble and I'll kill you_.

"All right then." We both looked toward the whitecoat, who consulted his clipboard. "Subjects Alpha and Five, no current threat."

In creepy unison Con and I invited the guy to perform something anatomically impossible to himself. We were thus punished by our guards--me by getting an arm twisted up my back, Con getting a smack to the face.

"Hey!" I shouted, a sudden rage igniting in me. "Only I'm allowed to do that!"

"Hmph. Unfortunately for _you_, _I'm_ the one who decides who gets to do what," said a familiar British-accented voice, and I momentarily stopped fighting with Underlings #1 and 2 to look toward the door of the cell.

It was a woman, pretty average-height by my standards, with dark, shiny black hair and a strict, just-begging-to-be-questioned authoritative air about her. She strode in in a businesslike manner, her shiny black heels clacking across the cement floor.

"Well, whaddaya know," I snarled. "I'm being manhandled on the orders of Kelly from _The Office_!"

My once-torturer, the Indian lab grunt I'd so whimsically christened Alice, narrowed her eyes at me. "I see you haven't changed in terms of attitude," she said in her frosty British accent.

"And I see you haven't changed in terms of owning a soul," I replied. "Even."

A slight smirk crept over Alice's lips. To my surprise, she said, "Put her down."

Underling #1 and Underling #2 set me down warily, shadowing me rather annoyingly if I even tried to take a baby step in any direction.

"So?" I asked Alice dully. "What the hell d'you want with us?"

"Just a minor check-up," Alice said vaguely, her eyes sweepign across the room. Her gaze lingered on the way mine and Con's shoes were lined up by the far wall, adding, "I see you've been keeping yourselves. . .occupied."

I merely shrugged. "Shoes are silly things. Though stylish--in some cases--" (I looked pointedly down at her shoes, a look of skepticism on my face) "--they unnecessarily bind the wonders that are feet." I raised my leg and waggled my foot. "And I can never find my size. I'm beginning to think men's eight-and-two-fifths narrow doesn't even exist."

For some reason, Con was glaring at me, silently urging me to shut up. I ignored him, because, well, face it, when have I _ever _listened to him? (Or anybody else, for that matter?)

Well. . .I guess I _had_ listened just a little bit ago. Twice, actually. But let's not get picky.

"How. . .quaint," Alice said, her voice holding an odd tone. She looked like she'd found something particularly interesting about me; I could see it in the way her hungry eyes raked over me. I shifted uncomfortably.

"Um, just so you know, I'm not into the whole cougar thing," I told her with a staright face. "Or the lesbian thing. At least not with you. Were you, say, Lisa Morgan, though. . ." I shrugged. "Maybe. She's very pretty. And she kicks ass as Dr. Cuddy."

If Con had had a free hand he would've smacked himself in the forehead. Instead, he had to make do with rolling his eyes and shaking his head. I glanced over at him for a second and he mouthed, _"Shut up!"_ I half-smiled fleetingly. Yeah, right. Because I _always _shut up. In fact, people actually yell at me for _not_ talking sometimes.

Alice pulled out a small PDA and entered something into a personal note. "Everything going according to schedule," she said to herself. "We should arrive in London within the week, giving us enough time to run more than all the tests I had set aside. . ."

"London?" Con echoed, speaking up for the first time. "You're taking us to that stupid conference thing?"

"Correct," Alice said smugly, tucking away her PDA. She smiled warmly and then said to the things restraining us, "Bring them both to Lab Six for stress testing. After that, we can progress to endurance."

"Tests? But I don't have my number two pencil!" I tried to protest, squirming as my bodyguards forced me along. "And I haven't studied!"

"Watch it!" Behind me, Con suddenly came to life as his guards dragged him along after me, spouting obscenites that even _I_ wasn't creative enough to come up with. Somehow, I knew he was even more pissed off than he was trying to lead our captors to believe.

Randomly, I thought about our shoes, still lined up at the back wall in the cell, with the business cards lying inside. I wondered how long it would before Con and I could continue our game. Or even if we would be in fit enough condition to play.

* * *

so, yeah. chapter eleven up, chapter twelve to follow. . .sometime in the hopefully near future. once again, i'm sorry the updating for this is a lot slower than the previous story. hopefully you can forgive me.


	12. Chapter 12

. . .yeah. um, sorry it took so long to get this thing updated. i could come up with any myriad of ridiculous excuses to explain the delay, but i think you guys have waited long enough for this next chapter. so go on and read it.

disclaimer: don't own maximum ride.

* * *

_**12. building a mystery***_

"Hah. . .hah. . .hah. . ."

Con folded his arms behind his head, every movement of his lungs a pain as he tried to catch his breath. Beside him, Spark was bent almost double, hands on her knees, just as out-of-breath as he was.

They'd just completed a five-mile circuit in seventeen minutes flat-in unison. Both Spark and Con had started at the same time, kept the same pace, and finished at the same time, more to tick off the whitecoats than anything else. Just something Spark had come up with a few hours before, when Con had gotten a little electric shock for being two seconds behind her in the booby-trapped maze. That way, since neither of them lost to the other, the loser couldn't be shocked.

All of a sudden, the bracelet on Con's right wrist tingled, then delivered a high-end dose of electricity. He nearly dropped to the floor because of it, and next to him Spark actually _did_ fall. Once his brain had unscrambled, Con knelt down at her side. She waved him off, holding her head in pain.

_"We _know_ you're doing this on purpose, you two," _came the accented voice of the lead scientist. (Spark called her Alice-he had no idea why.) Con turned to glare up at the viewing box, where "Alice" and two other whitecoats were monitoring everything taking place in this makeshift training field. The Indian woman didn't look at all pleased. She frowned, then spoke once again over the loudspeaker. _"If you don't start to really try, you will face dire consequences that will make you regret your birth."_

"Too late for that, huh?" Spark whispered, and Con laughed. Well, he would've, if he'd had any energy to.

"By sixteen years," he answered, getting to his feet and offering his hand to help Spark up.

_"Take them back to the starting line," _Alice called. _"This time don't allow them to stop until they've run ten miles."_

Spark groaned as Con pulled her to her feet. "Can we skip it? Please?"

"We can't escape yet," Con said irritably, rolling his eyes. "We wouldn't get ten feet before they-"

"No, you idiot, I mean literally _skip_ it," Spark interrupted. "As in skipping along the track for all ten miles like a couple of four-year-olds."

Con stared at her. "No way in _hell_ am I going to skip. And neither are you."

"I object to that," Spark replied flippantly. Two of the robotic assistants came up and began herding the two bird-kids back towards the starting line of the track. "I do what I want. Especially if it pisses off somebody who thinks they're in control of what I'm supposed to do."

"If you start to skip, you will be dead in ten minutes, because either they will electrocute you to death or I will _strangle_ you to death," Con snapped after her.

"I thought we had a 'no killing' pact?" Spark said mildly, stumbling as a robot pushed her.

"That doesn't extend to skipping like an idiot," he retorted.

"Well, do what you want," Spark said with a smirk. "I'm skipping."

"Do it and die."

"Aw, you won't kill me," she teased. "You like me too much."

"You little-!" Con began, but then the intercom beeped.

_"Change of plans,"_ said Alice. Both Spark and Con looked up in surprise. _"Take the girl to Room Twelve. The boy you can dump back in the cell."_

"Huh?" Spark said, just as Con said, "What?"

They looked at each other in surprise, but then the robots leapt into action, grabbing Spark once again and beginning to haul her away. As anyone would predict, she immediately struggled against them. "Wait a. . .let me go!"

"Spark!" Con called, but two more robots appeared to restrain him from going to her aid. He could've easily fought them off if he'd been fully charged, but in his present condition. . .and it didn't help when two more came up to help drag him back to his cell. Not that that didn't stop him from trying.

"Spark!" he yelled again, thrashing against the robots' hold. She was already halfway across the field, but she was kicking up a storm in protest; four more robots had already popped up, making her guard count six. He could hear her cussing them all out, really screeching up some colorful phrases.

But none of it did any good. She was pulled from the field, taken to Room Twelve (whatever that was), and Con was thrown back in the cell.

They were separated now, and Con hated it much more than he'd like to think.

* * *

"OW!" I yelled unnecessarily loudly as the robot guard-thingies pushed me into a new room, one with white walls and tiled floors and an examination table thingie and fluorescent lights that flickered every now and again in a rather irritating fashion. I was instantly up and pounding on the door, shouting and slipping all too easily into my _uncooperative captive_ role. "HEY! What the hell's going on? Why'm I here, what're you gonna do to me!"

"Geez," I heard someone say dully behind me. "You can really shout, you know that?"

I whipped around, having recognized the voice. I felt my face light up, but-wary of anybody watching via the conspicuous one-way mirror-kept my voice neutral. "Joey."

My once-bodyguard was leaning against the back wall, arms crossed, face arranged in a skeptical expression. "Spark."

"Well?" I asked mildly, though I was insanely happy to see him. He and Frankie had helped me once, and I'd bet. . .um. . .something really valuable that they'd help me again (guess I'm just likeable that way). Somebody knocked softly on the window behind me, but I ignored it. "What d'you want from me?"

Joey shrugged, pushing himself away from the wall. "Nothin'. I'm just here 'till the big dogs come in to attack. Which is now."

I let out a breath and closed my eyes, already preparing myself for whatever the hell they were gettin' ready to do with me. Joey brushed past me, and, so softly I almost didn't catch it, he whispered something to me. It was only after he left that I realized it'd been Italian, and it took me a second to translate it in my overtaxed brain.

_Hang tough._

Well, okay then.

The door clicked open again and I turned. It was Alice, flanked by two of the guard-bots. At least three more lurked about outside the door-too many to take on in my tired state. Especially with that stupid shock bracelet on my wrist.

"And what do _you_ want?" I asked her, making myself sound tired and disinterested.

Alice smiled, and it was cold and thin. "Me? I just want you to cooperate. It would make my life _so_ much easier."

"Oh. Well, sorry, but that's a little too much to ask," I replied, raising my hand to inspect my fingernails. My broken, bitten fingernails. Hm. _Just where does a kid get a nail file around here?_

I glanced up momentarily to check on Alice's reaction, and she looked a bit taken aback, which was sad. She'd dealt with me once before-hadn't she learned enough from that?

After a few seconds, she drew herself up again. With a snap of her fingers, the robots moved in and grabbed me. I struggled, but there were too many-soon enough I was strapped down to the examination table in the middle of the room. Thick Velcro straps fastened my arms and legs to the table, so I could do nothing as an unimportant lab grunt wheeled in a medical cart full of any evil scientist's dream.

Dr. Alice snapped on some rubber gloves (ooh, scary, right?) and began prepping for some kind of test. She twisted my left arm so the crook of my elbow faced up and swabbed my skin with an alcohol wipe.

"Make no mistake," she said forcefully, looking down her nose at me. "I'm the one in charge of you now, and I intend to change you into a new and improved specimen."

"New _and_ improved? That's kinda impossible, you know," I told her sincerely. "If it's new, that means there's been nothing like it before. And if it's improved, that means there was a previous version to improve upon. You should make up your mind, lady. It'll help ya in the long run."

Alice's tiny smile gave way to a scowl. "I want to give you new life in this world. And if I can bring you into it, then I can take you out of it as well."

Oh, God. That cliché was so cliché I almost choked and died on it. But rather than do that and take away the apple of everybody's eye, I settled for a tiny sigh.

Taking my silence as a successful intimidation tactic, Dr. Indian Alice smiled again. "But I wouldn't worry just yet. Would you like to know why we cut your training short?"

_That was training?_ I thought to myself. But out loud, all I said was "Oh, yes, please. Do tell. I'm dying from the suspense" in a deadpan.

Alice's cold smile returned, and this time I didn't think it stupid. Rather, I found it quite creepy.

"I was given permission to begin the testing. Starting with hypermaladrine's counterpart, _hypo_maladrine."

"Oooh. Sounds interesting," I said, smirking. "I'm excited now. Really I am. Can't wait. So bring it on, bitch!"

Alice frowned at me, then touched the needle of a syringe to my skin. The liquid inside it was a bright neon blue color.

Who knew just a simple colored liquid could make me feel so scared.

* * *

Iggy suddenly went still, and we all stopped what we were doing to stare at him. Knowing we were all looking at him, he held up a finger. "I heard something."

Instinctively, I glanced at Fang, who met my eyes for just a second. He knew, like I did, that this was finally it. Somebody was going to come in to explain everything to us. I looked over at Blaze, too-she _looked_ completely relaxed, but I could see her tapping her fingers nervously. I wondered absently how used she was to this kind of stuff.

The doorknob turned, and we all tensed up, ready for our newest enemy.

. . .Who turned out to be a kid.

A boy stood in the doorway, swinging a set of handcuffs around his finger as he looked down at where we were all sitting, more or less huddled together in the far corner of the room. He was tall, like us, but way more muscley. Not in a gross way, like some of those freaky bodybuilders, but definitely in a "don't mess with me" way.

His dark brown eyes flicked over us once, lingering on Angel. I snuck an inquisitive glance at her, but her small, young face was completely blank. But then the kid looked to me, a cocky smirk flickering to life on his lips.

"You're Max Ride, right?" he asked, nodding at me.

My fists clenched. "What are the consequences if I say yes?" I said snidely.

His smirk grew more definitive as he entered the room. I looked out past him and felt my heart sink as I saw about half a dozen of Itex's latest robots, M-Geeks, skulking about in the room beyond. I briefly wondered just how many I could take out before they stopped me.

_Max?_ Angel asked me mentally. _Should we try to run?_

I glanced at her. _Yeah. There's only seven of them, and ten of us. Tell the others._

"Don't you know it's rude to answer a question with a question?" the boy asked as he knelt at Blaze's side, snapping one part of the handcuffs around her wrist.

"Don't you know it's rude to imprison innocent children?" I retorted. Then, as the boy rose and came toward me, I shouted, "Now!" and leaped up, making a break for the door, my flock right on my heels. I thought we'd make it, too, but the boy with the handcuffs was quicker.

"Na-ah, Max," the boy snapped, grabbing my arm as I ran past. He jerked me back and twisted my wrist. I bit my lip to stop myself from crying out. _Geezum, he's strong!_ "You're comin' too."

"Watch it!" I snarled, adrenaline infusing my limbs with steel. I raised my foot and stomped on his instep; he swore, and his grip weakened enough for me to wrench my arm from his grasp.

"No, Max, wait!" Blaze yelled after me, but I ignored her. I ran for the door-outside, I saw the flock fighting with the M-Geeks-and I was almost there before my wrist tingled and I was floored by a mind-scrambling electric shock. I heard the others yelling, too, and guessed they'd been dealt with electricity as well.

"Sadly that was the lowest setting," said the boy grimly. I shakily got up and wasn't able to resist as he grabbed my arm again, snapping the other half of the handcuffs around my wrist, connecting me to Blaze. I glared up at him and he frowned. "I won't do that again, but if you make me. . ." The boy's eyes glowed momentarily, turning yellow, with slitted pupils. "I might have to force you to cooperate."

I blinked in surprise and sneaked a glance at Blaze. She frowned and shook her head.

". . .Fine," I mumbled.

"Good. Now come on," he said angrily, dragging me and Blaze out by our handcuffs. I glanced back over my shoulder at mine and Blaze's flocks to send them a reassuring smile, but the door closed too quick so I don't think they saw it.

"God you're dumb," Blaze mumbled. I rolled my eyes.

"You talking to me or him?" I muttered back, nodding at the boy directing us to wherever we were going.

"You," she said, glaring at me. I saw her blue eyes twinkle with that freaky silver that usually happened whenever Spark was around. "He's part _wildcat_, you idiot! They're way strong!"

I frowned. "I didn't _know_."

"Well next time, why don't you just wait before you run off all crazy like that?" she hissed, and I rolled my eyes again. "I'm _serious_, Max! We're in deep shit here! And we're supposed to be working together, aren't we?"

Before I could answer, the boy in front of us chuckled. "You _do_ know I can hear you, right?" he asked dryly.

"Shut the f*ck up!" Blaze snapped at him. He glanced back, more in mild amusement than surprise. "And you can quit the tough-guy act, too, Frankie, 'cuz I know you helped Spark get out of Chicago!" Blaze added.

Frankie's mouth opened in mock amazement. "_Me?_ Help _her_? Why _ever_ would I do that?" he asked, sounding appalled.

"I told you to cut the crap!" Blaze said venomously.

"You did no such thing," Frankie retorted. His eyes flicked to me and he winked. "You told me to shut the f*ck up and to quit the tough-guy act. No _crap_ was ever mentioned."

"Oh, _whatever!_ Just tell me something, okay?" Blaze glared at Frankie and he stopped leading us down the hallway. "Where's Con?"

"And Spark, for that matter," I put in quickly.

Frankie half-smiled. "Funny you should ask."

* * *

Con flicked the business card out of his hand. It spiraled across the room and landed in one of Spark's shoes. Twenty points.

He tossed the other one, too, but it missed all four shoes. By a lot. Annoyed, Con rubbed his temple and let out a frustrated sigh.

It'd been two hours since they'd taken Spark, and the longer she was away the worse a feeling he had about her. Like, what were they even doing? Tests? Questioning? What? He was giving himself a headache thinking about it.

Con heard a faint noise and looked to the door. A second later it opened, and for a second Con had deja vu, because it was the fish twins, Aqua and Arthur, carrying an unconscious Spark between them. He was on his feet in an instant, crossing the room toward where the twins had unceremoniously dumped Spark on the single cot in the cell.

He stopped when he saw Spark was covered in new wounds-bruises, a few shallow scrapes, and needle-marks in her arms. Plus, the scar on her face, from when Ariel had cut her cheek in Chicago, had been reopened. Her skin had an unhealthy pallor to it, and she was lying unnaturally still, barely even breathing.

The sight angered him more than he liked to admit.

"Wouldn't bother, Constantine," Aqua said, and Con blinked. He then realized his hand had reached out to Spark.

"What'd you do to her?" he asked evenly, fists clenching as he turned to face the twins.

"_We_ did nothing," said Arthur, shrugging carelessly. He flicked his head to get the hair out of his eyes. "Just brought her back here."

"The scientists, on the other hand," Aqua said, straightening her black baseball cap, "hit her with some pretty heavy stuff. Hy_po_maladrine, hy_per_maladrine."

"Lots of 'drines," Arthur added, nodding.

"You'd be surprised by how many there are."

Con closed his eyes and let out a frustrated breath. One of the many reasons he disliked these two: they liked to talk in turns like that. A lot. And it was annoying. Trying to swallow his anger, he again asked, "Why is she like this? What'd you do to her?"

"I thought we established this," Aqua said, turning to her twin. He shrugged a shoulder.

"I thought so too." He looked at Con, almost smirking. "We're just the muscle. You wanna know what kinda tests they did on her, take it up with Dr. Stadtfield."

The twins shared a knowing smile and turned to leave, and the tiny chuckle Aqua let out was what really made Con lose it a little bit. He stalked after the twins, grabbing the shoulder of whichever one was closest.

"I'm not _asking _Stadtfield or whoever!" he snapped, jerking Aqua around. She scowled and Arthur slapped Con's hand away. Refusing to be deterred, Con glared from fish hybrid to fish hybrid, not truly knowing the exact reason behind his fury. "I'm not _asking_ any stupid f*cking _scientist!_ I'm asking. _You_. Now what. Did. You. _Do_ to her?"

"Uh-oh. He's pissed," Aqua acknowledged.

"Oh, really?" Arthur said mildly. "I thought he was about to explode with joy."

Con's fists clenched. _That's _it_!_

* * *

*if you're at all wondering about the titles to the chapters in this story, since chapter five i've pretty much been using song titles that relate in some obscure way to the things happening in each chapter. i was getting bored waiting for somebody to notice, so i thought i'd point it out.

again, _very_ sorry it took so long to get this up. i claim. . .writer's block. yeah. we'll go with that.

oh, and by the way, who was it that voted 'no' on the poll on my profile? just curious. . .


	13. Chapter 13

i'm trying to be more frequent with the updating. really. i'm not dead, i promise.

disclaimer: don't own maximum ride.

* * *

_**13. i will remember you**_

Suddenly, in the middle of a fork in the hallway, Frankie went still.

Blaze halted, and, beside her, Max did the same. Cat Boy had said he would lead them to Con and Spark (who, apparently, really _wasn't_ dead), and he'd said he'd tell them all about the plan to bust them out of this damn place, but he sure as hell was taking his time about it.

"Hey," Blaze said, kicking the back of Frankie's leg. "Why'd ya stop? I thought you were taking us to Con."

But he ignored her. He tilted his head slightly. "What the. . ."

"Hey! I'm talking to you!" Blaze snapped. "Why'd you stop?"

". . .Dammit," Frankie breathed, then spun around to face the two girls he was supposedly "guarding." "I can hear a fight, and it sounds like it's coming from Con's room."

"Then what're you waiting for?" Blaze demanded. "Take us there!"

The cat hybrid fidgeted for a second. "Well, here's the thing. I'm supposed to be 'taking' you two to 'testing' that really doesn't exist, because I made it up, so if we come across any whitecoats then. . ."

"Then we'll deal with it then," Max interrupted. "Just take us to Spark and Con."

". . .Fine," Frankie finally said. He tugged slightly on the chain between the handcuffs that bound Blaze to Max. "It's this way."

Blaze and Max followed Frankie down the left-hand hallway, walking quickly but not running-no reason to draw any extra attention to themselves. It didn't take long to get to where they needed to be.

The three hybrids had just rounded a corner when there was a loud noise, like some big piece of furniture breaking. A door about halfway down the hall splintered into three pieces as the blurry form of a boy with reddish brown hair was hurled out of a room. Frankie yanked the two bird-girls along and, from inside the room the boy had just flown out of, Blaze heard the unmistakeable clamor of a fight going on.

Frankie dropped the handcuff chain and went straight to the boy's side, kicking aside parts of broken door. The kid looked pretty dang annoyed-Blaze recognized him as the fish hybrid, Arthur-and snapped, "Leave me alone, Aqua's still in there!"

"What the hell's going on?" Frankie demanded as Arthur leapt up and rushed back into the room. The cat hybrid darted after him, snapping a command for Max and Blaze to follow.

* * *

Con ducked a punch from Aqua, then tripped her up, beginning to torture her mind at the same time. She cried out as she hit the cement floor of the cell, writhing in pain until her twin, Arthur, came flying back into the room, slamming Con back into a wall and shattering his concentration.

He had no idea what he was doing. All he knew was that he was pissed, and he really, _really_ needed to take it out on somebody. In this case it just happened to be two somebodys.

A single thought and now Arthur was the one experiencing mental pain; Con shoved him away, barely having time to catch his breath before Aqua was back on him, swinging clasped fists around to bury into his gut. He hunched over, then fell to the floor as she followed through with a kick to his spine. Con tried to get up, but Aqua dropped a knee between his wings, grabbing an arm to twist up his back as he fell back to the floor. He struggled to throw her off, but it wasn't much use-she was, after all, one of the strongest hybrids he knew of.

He was just gathering his strength for a final attempt to throw her off when a loud voice cut into the room.

"What the hell's going on in here?"

Con looked up-it was one of the cat hybrids from Italy. Frankie, his name was. He was pretty sure he'd helped Spark escape. Just behind him, Con caught sight of Blaze, and Maximum Ride, too.

"H-he just freaked out," Arthur stuttered, wincing as he got to his feet. "We don't what set him off."

"_I_ do," Aqua sneered, digging her knee into Con's back. "It's 'cuz we wouldn't tell him what happened to his little girlfriend."

"Get the hell off me!" Con snarled, but was only rewarded with pain as the girl yanked his arm up his back.

"Let him up," Frankie ordered, taking a step into the cell. Blaze and Max slipped in behind him, and Con saw for the first time they were handcuffed together. So, to add to his frustration, he was also confused. Both emotions he did _not_ like to deal with.

The fish twins looked at each other, and with a muttered curse Aqua let go of Con's wrist and stepped away. Con irritably sat up and leaned back against a wall, not bothering to stand.

"You two okay?" Frankie asked.

Arthur shrugged and Aqua gave a quick nod.

"Good," said the cat hybrid; "now leave."

"Um, _what?_" Aqua said.

"Like we'd leave _you_ alone with _them?_" Arthur said, raising an eyebrow at Frankie.

"Like it or not, you're going to," Frankie said coldly. His eyes glowed and he practically growled the next part. "And you're not going to tell anybody what here either, got it?"

The twins' eyes narrowed, but then, in creepy twin unison, they shrugged and said, "Whatever."

"Good. Now leave," Frankie repeated.

"Fine," Aqua said, folding her hands behind her head as she followed her brother to the door. "But you owe us one, Frankie."

"Fine. Just go."

"You'd think he'd be nicer when asking a favor," Arthur commented.

"You would think."

"Yo, Pisces!"* Frankie snapped, sounding legitimately angry. "Scat!"

"Did he just call us _Pisces?_" Aqua asked, halting at the door and sounding appalled.

Arthur rolled his eyes, grabbing his twin's sleeve. "Whatever. Let's get out of here."

Aqua's shocked "I cannot believe he just called us _Pisces!_" soon faded as she and Arthur reluctantly left the cell-Frankie waited until the viewing room door had closed as well before taking a breath and relaxing.

"Seriously, how dumb _are_ you?" Blaze demanded of Con, kicking him lightly. He rolled his eyes and ignored her. "Nobody can take on those freaks, they're frickin' unstoppable when they're together."

No _duh_, he wanted to say. That's why they pretty much kicked my ass. But out loud, all he really said was a snappish, "Leave me alone."

"No, because somehow since I've last seen you, you've turned into a dumbass. What's _wrong_ with you?" Blaze asked again, looking seriously bewildered. He ignored her. Again.

"Is she okay?" Max asked, sounding slightly nervous. Con glanced over at her and saw she'd made her way over to Spark's cot-she was feeling her forehead, checking for a fever. "What'd they do to her?"

"Like I know!" Con said irritably, frustrated all over again about Spark's condition. "They wouldn't tell me!"

"Everybody just shut up for a second, okay?" Frankie said loudly before either Max or Blaze could respond. The three bird-kids looked at him and he frowned. "Look, I brought you two here so we could all talk," he said, first to the girls but then including Con. "I have a plan."

Blaze scoffed and Con rolled his eyes.

"I'm _serious!_" Frankie said angrily, his eyes flashing momentarily yellow. "Considering what's already happened to Con and Spark, I think we should really. . ."

"What happened to you?" Blaze asked sharply, glaring down at Con.

"Nothing," he muttered. "Just some tests."

"Thankfully, that's _all_ they did. To you," Frankie said grimly.

"Then what'd they do to Spark?" Max demanded.

"I already said I don't know!" Con cried explosively.

"I wasn't _asking _you!" Ride shot back.

"Shut up!" Frankie practically shouted, and everybody looked at him again. Looking uncharacteristically serious, he said, "Look, I don't know what happened to Spark either, but whatever it is I'm assuming it shouldn't happen again. So, considering what they've _already_ done, our plan's gonna have to be moved up to today."

"What plan?" Con asked warily.

"The plan to get us out, f*cktard," Blaze said, rolling her eyes. "Believe it or not, it might actually work."

_. . .Get out, huh?_ Con thought, eyes drifting over to the corner of the room. Even though Max was standing right in front of her, he could still see Spark. Getting out meant he could finally be rid of her. Hell, he could've gone back on his truce and killed her any number of times to be rid of her.

What freaked him out was that he wasn't totally sure he wanted her dead anymore. Out of his life, yeah. But. . ._dead?_

". . .What do I have to do?"

* * *

My head ached. No, scratch that: it _killed_. I opened my eyes, then shut them again against the glare of the lights. I waited for the throbbing in my skull to decline some before I swung my legs to the floor and sat up. . .which only caused more pain to radiate throughout my body. I moaned softly and hunched over, elbows on knees and head in hands as I tried to think past the pain.

_What happened? Where. . .owwww. . ._

I couldn't do it. I mean, _everything hurt_. My legs, my back, my wings. My arms, my shoulders, my neck. My eyes, my cheek. Heck, even my _teeth_ hurt. (And yes, it is possible for teeth to feel pain.)

"Hey, you're awake?" a voice I vaguely recognized suddenly asked.

I groaned. "No. Leave me alone."

"What'd they do to you?" the voice asked, and I heard a faint rustling sound-whoever it was had gotten to his feet. His footsteps told me he was approaching, but I didn't even have the will to see who it was, much less prepare myself for anything he might try to do.

"Nothing," I said shortly, pressing my palms to my closed eyelids. "I don't remember."

"What do you mean you don't remember?" he demanded sharply. He sounded so familiar, but I couldn't remember why. The last think I remembered was. . .well, Max, actually. I winced as a blurry memory came into focus-yeah, it was Max, sitting on a tree branch across from me. She looked mad. And then I'd left her. . ._owww!_

"It hurts to think," I replied, managing to keep my tone only slightly miserable. As opposed to, say, completely miserable. "I thought I told you to leave me alone."

"I can't do that." I sensed he was standing right in front of me now, and I heard him kneel down on the floor. His voice was calm and a little concerned, which was weird for some reason. But for the life of me I couldn't think of why. "If we want to get out of here I need to know what the hell they did to you."

They? That meant. . .whitecoats. Right? The must've captured me. Where was I? What had happened to me?

"Spark. Tell me."

It was really starting to bug me that I couldn't place his voice. It wasn't Fang, or Iggy. It was definitely a guy, though. . .Sy? No. Sy was. . .I flinched again, breath hissing through my teeth as I struggled to remember. Max _wasn't_ the last thing I remembered-Sy was. He'd saved me. From something. But then he'd turned red-eyed Dylan on me.

My head gave a particularly violent throb and I almost whimpered.

A sigh. "Okay, I'm really, _really_ trying to be nice here, but you're kinda pissing me off."

He sounded annoyed now. I knew that voice, but why couldn't I pair a name to it? Or a face, for that matter? _Why was my memory so screwed up?_

"_You're_ pissing _me_ off," I snapped back at him. "Now leave me the f*ck _alone!_"

He didn't get mad, like I'd expected. But why would I expect that? Was he normally mad at me?

Who the hell was it? I stopped covering my eyes, my hands instead sliding up to twist my fingers in my hair. My eyes stung when I opened them, but I was looking down so all I could see was my feet on the cold cement floor. I saw part of a knee, too, a knee that wasn't mine.

"Spark, think." I realized I could probably look up and see who was trying to talk to me, see if it'd jog my memory. But if I moved, it'd hurt.

"What'd they do?" he asked. "Give you a drug?"

"No, actually, it was liquified joy in a syringe," I retorted acidly. I let go of my head and finally looked up. "What the hell do _you_. . .think?"

I recognized the jet-black hair and the steely gray eyes. I recognized the frown, the sharp features to his face. His name was. . .something. It started with a. . .K? Maybe? Or a C?

Whoever he was, I still couldn't remember. But he looked like he'd been beat up recently, and for some reason that seemed _way_ not cool. The sight of it made me kinda pissed.

"What the hell happened to _you?_" I asked, looking him up and down. One of his sleeves was ripped, and I saw a nasty-looking scratch on his wrist. Plus, there was a faint bruise on his jaw. And it all amounted to my mind thinking _I'm kicking the ass of whoever did this!_

"Huh?" He looked down at himself. "Nothing. Forget me, what was it they gave you?"

"The difference between you and me is that you actually _remember_ what happened to you," I said, frowning. "Right now I can't even process your name, but obviously you mean something to me because if you didn't I wouldn't be freaking out. So would you just freaking tell me what happened?"

He looked alarmed. "You can't remember my name?"

"It starts with a 'kuh' sound," I said vaguely. "Right?"

"Con," he said, eyeing me warily. "I'm Con. And that's really kinda bad that you couldn't remember that."

_Con!_ That's right! It was all coming back to me now! He. . .hated me. And I hated him. He'd tried to kill me multiple times, along with the rest of the anti-flock. Even if. . .even if we were on temporary truce, why had I been freaked about him looking beat up?

Correction: why was I _still_ freaked about him looking beat up?

"I know that!" I cried out in frustration. "I _know_ I'm screwed up! But what _I_ want to know is why _you_ look like you had the crap kicked out of you!"

"I did _not _get the crap kicked out of me," Con said flatly, scowling. "I fought with those stupid fish kids that brought you in was all. Geez. It's really not a big deal, and it's freaky that you think it is. So what. Did. They. Give you?"

"I. Don't. Know."

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, you do. The memory's just hard to access. But think. If it was an experimental drug, it was in a clear syringe, which means you would've seen it. What color was it?"

I continued to glare at Con as I tried to think. But my eyes eventually drifted, finally closing as I concentrated.

_Alice's cold smile returned, and this time I didn't think it stupid. Rather, I found it quite creepy._

_"I was given permission to begin the testing. Starting with hypermaladrine's counterpart, _hypo_maladrine."_

_"Oooh. Sounds interesting," I said, smirking. "I'm excited now. Really I am. Can't wait. So bring it on, bitch!"_

_Alice frowned at me, then touched the needle of a syringe to my skin. The liquid inside it was a bright neon blue color._

_Who knew just a simple colored liquid could make me feel so scared._

". . .Blue," I said after a pause. I opened my eyes again and winced as yet another invisible nail stabbed my temple; I stifled another groan. "It was blue. And she called it. . .hypomaladrine. Now leave me _alone_, it hurts to even think."

Con frowned at me. "You're sure it was hypomaladrine?"

"Well, it wasn't _hyper_maladrine," I said irritably. "Because then I'd actually be able to remember stuff past Sy freaking on me and slamming me with a rock."

"That's the last thing you remember?" Con looked surprised again, and I didn't take it as a good sign.

"Just about," I said slowly, watching him warily. "Why, what's happened since then?"

"Um. . .a lot, actually. And it's really, _really_ bad that you don't remember."

"Okay, I know we've been captured," I said quickly, his worried expression making me uneasy. "And I know we're on temporary truce so we can get out. And I remember that chick giving me the hypomaladrine. What's it supposed to do?"

"Cause memory loss, apparently," Con said. He let out a breath and ran a hand through his hair. "It's really weird, I don't know much about it. But one of the effects is that it slows us down."

"What d'you mean?"

"Us. Bird-kids. Like, it slows down our bodies or something so we can't heal as fast as we normally do. Which really, _really_ sucks for our escape plan. I just hope they didn't give you enough to really screw you up."

"Okay, a, what escape plan, and two, you_ hope?_ You're actually concerned about me?" I asked, my voice heavily laden with sarcasm.

"Yes, actually, I am," he retorted, and he didn't look happy about it. Which was good-I didn't want anything to come of this time spent together. Life had been so much easier when my biggest fear was him finding and/or trying to kill me again. "I don't want you passing out on me or something if we get a chance to escape anytime soon."

I paused, then said, "Again with the escape. I thought we were going to wait it out a bit until we knew more."

"I do know more." He glanced around, as if checking to be really sure we were alone. Lowering his voice, he said, "I saw Blaze today."

"Wait, _what?_" Blaze hadn't even been with us when we'd been captured. (I don't think.) So, her being here definitely classed as _knowing more_.

"Blaze. I saw her. And Max," Con said, coming over to sit on the part of the cot furthest from me. I half-turned so I could face him. "That Frankie kid brought them in after I fought the twins. Everybody else is here with us, and there's a plan to get us out."

I stared at him for a second. "Okay, I would've paid _way_ more attention to you if you'd just started with that instead of badgering me about what the stupid whitecoats did to me. What d'we gotta do?"

"Right now, nothing." Con half-frowned, then amended himself: "Well, actually, you should sleep. It'll start later, and it'll only work if you can actually stay conscious long enough to run and maybe blast a few doors open."

I stared at him again. ". . .You're kidding, right?"

"I don't kid. Not with you, anyway."

"There's _no way _I'll be able to blast open _anything_ feeling like this," I said exasperatedly, gesturing to myself. As if someone had magically written my crappy feelings on my shirt or something.

"Hence the sleeping before that has to happen," Con said, standing up so I could lay back down on the cot. (Yeah, right.)

"And that's another thing," I said, also standing. I gave myself a head rush and had to hold myself still for a second so the mild pain could recede. "No way am I sleeping with you in the room. You'll stab me in my sleep or something."

"I don't have anything to stab you _with_," Con told me, rolling his eyes. "What's the big deal? You've done it already."

I hesitated. "Unconscious. Doesn't count."

"C'mon, just trust me. I won't _do_ anything."

_Trust me_.

Last time he'd said that, it'd turned out better rather than worse.

Then again, it had also been a dream. A freaky dream, at that.

"Okay, maybe _trust_ was the wrong word," Con said, more to himself than me. "Uhh. . ."

"Oh, whatever," I sighed, sitting back down on the cot. Con seemed surprised.

"Wait, you're actually _listening _to me?" he said skeptically. "When did this happen?"

"Ah, just shut up and let me sleep," I grumbled, turning my back to him and closing my eyes.

* * *

I was woken by Con shaking me gently.

"Spark. Get up."

I hunched my shoulders, unwilling to get up. "Leave me alone. My head still hurts."

"Get up. I'm serious."

"Ugh, _why?_" I groaned, forcing myself to sit up.

"Because someone needs to speak with you," said an unfamiliar voice.

I knuckled my eyes and blinked-just a few feet in front of me was a tall, tree-like man holding a tiny notebook was watching me expectantly.

"Huh." I stretched as Con sat down on the cot next to me (for some reason, his presence was more reassuring than anything else. . .which was creepy). "Well, then, go ahead. I'll try to answer with at least _some_ level of comprehensibility."

"Spark, they call you?" the man asked, consulting his itty-bitty notepad.

"Amongst other things," I replied lightly. "I've also responded to You With The Face, Weirdo, Sparky, Chica, Tinkerbell, Dude, Dud_ette_, and even Ashton. Though I've no idea why I responded to that last one."

He blinked. "That's truly fascinating," he said in a deadpan. He flipped his little book closed and tucked it into one of the pockets on his lab coat. "Now, I need to ask you some questions."

I grinned as, beside me, Con let out a skeptical little noise.

"Ask away, _mon capitane_," I said.

"How are you feeling right now?"

_Silly, silly scientist,_ I thought. I bit my lip and tapped my chin with my fingers, pretending to think. "Hm. Well, I'm kinda pissed, actually. I mean, not only have I been subjected to cruel experimentation, but my being kidnapped like this means I'm also missing out on the new season of _House_. Plus, I'm probably getting _wayyy_ behind on my schoolwork, so. . ."

The man sighed and shook his head. "I meant how are you feeling _physically_?"

Dawning comprehension now dominated my expression. "_Ohhhh._ See, I always tell people to specify, but they never do!"

"Just answer the question. How are you feeling-_physically_-right now?"

In all truth, I still felt like total crap, so I knew why Con sent me a sharp look when I lied and told the guy, "Absolutely fantabulous, thank you."

He frowned. "No pain at all? No headache, muscle strain, nothing?"

"Ah don't feel nothin', Docta," I said with complete (and not entirely false-double negatives, gotta love 'em) honesty, topping off the innocence with wide eyes and a Southern accent.

Con lightly nudged me with his foot and I glanced at him: he was giving me a hard look that clearly said he wanted me to shut up. I looked back to the whitecoat and mulled the thought over in my mind. This guy didn't look that different from any of my other interrogators, but hey. Silence might piss him off even more than my talking.

So, weirdest of weird, I actually did as Con asked.

I must be going out of my mind.

"Well?" the man prompted.

_Crap, he was talking?_ I thought, but then I remembered my new tactic. So I made an "in deep thought" face, then shrugged and shook my head. The man's mouth twitched in a smirk.

"Good." (Huh. And I don't even know if what he'd asked had required a yes-or-no answer.) "Either way, I wouldn't worry just yet. Though we are allowed to test you as much as we like, someone contacted me with a. . .special request to keep you alive."

There are just so many ways I could've responded to that. I glanced at Con pleadingly, but he shook his head slightly. And, as frustrating as it was, I decided to follow his lead yet again. This non-talking-back stuff was going to kill me.

The whitecoat cleared his throat. Then, loudly and to nobody in particular, he said, "You can come in now."

After a second, the door clicked open, and. . .

_Goddammitalltohell!_

* * *

*well, they're fish hybrids. and they're twins. so it makes sense. . .at least to me.

so who wants to keep spark alive? bet it's actually kinda obvious. . .


	14. Chapter 14

happy fourth of july!

at least i'm still updating. i haven't abandoned this, i swear.

disclaimer: don't own maximum ride.

* * *

_**14. this love, this hate**_

One of Dylan's eyebrows quirked up as he smirked. "Hey, Spark. Lookin' good."

My eye twitched-which, to many who know me, is a sign that I'm about to blow a gasket. I opened my mouth to breathe fire at Dylan (figuratively, not literally-though wouldn't that be sweet?), but Con touched my clenched fist. So I clamped my jaws shut and resigned myself to glaring. Oh, man, if looks could kill he'd be dead ten times over by now.

"It's sweet that you specially requested to extend our lives, Dyl," Con said coolly. "And I always thought you didn't like me."

Dylan glared at Con, fire dancing in his red eyes. "I didn't do it for _you_, asswipe. I did it for _her_." He jerked his head at me.

"Aw. And that's even sweeter," Con replied, faking a touched tone. Then he put a hand up to his mouth, as if by blocking me from seeing it I wouldn't hear him. "But just so you know, she likes me better."

I found I was able to smile at the way Dylan scowled. Guess I know now where I picked up all that darling prisoner's charm from!

I inspected Dylan closely, once again so disturbed by the fact that this face could be so, _so_ different than the face of my Sy. Dylan just looked so cold and cocky and. . .well, kinda like Con. They both pulled that same expression when they were in charge, when they were taunting their captives (i.e., me). Whereas Sy would never look at me like that-he only smiled at me. And laughed at me. And sometimes rolled his eyes at me.

Dylan's eyes flickered over to me, and I frowned.

Note to self: I now hate the color red.

"My hand's fine, by the way," he said, raising his hand and wiggling his fingers. I blinked and saw faint blue bruises marring his slender, pale fingers, bruises that were shaped like my teeth. _That's right_, I thought, remembering. _I bit him. In that clearing._

"I'm fine, too," I told him sincerely. "I thought for sure your blood would poison me."

He shrugged and crossed his arms. "I'm just glad you didn't give me rabies."

"I still could," I snapped, baring my teeth in a very feral, animal-like way. Con elbowed me warningly and I fell silent.

"Just what is it you want with us?" Con asked coldly.

"Yeah, you interrupted my beauty sleep," I added, and a small smirk played over Dylan's lips.

"I'm so sure," he said quietly, speaking only to me, as if Con and the whitecoat weren't even in the room. I shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. Other note to self: I will never, _ever_ wear rubies.

"What is it you want with us?" I asked, echoing Con. Because I was curious now, too, behind all my anger. Did he just come in here to bait me and mess around? Or was there a real purpose? And why, as the whitecoat had said, did he put in a "special request" to keep us alive?

"Oh, you know." Dylan turned away and wandered around the room, trailing his fingers along the wall, meandering over to where Con's and my shoes were still lined up along the back wall. "Just came to say hi."

I leaned back on my hands. "Cut the crap, jerkwad. I know you guys're taking us to that stupid thing in London so Itex doesn't lose funding for its genetic experiments. They want us alive to compete, don't they?"

"I know you won't agree to it," Dylan said absently, bending down and picking up one of my shoes. My fists clenched-I don't like people touching my stuff. Especially people who take over the mind of my best friend. "And once you guys officially say that to the Director, I have permission to kill you. You have big feet," he added thoughtfully, turning my shoe over in his hand.

"All the better to kick you with, my dear," I said vaguely, not really up for any super-witty comebacks. I glanced over at Con. He was still, staring off into space. I hoped he was coming up with a plan or something, 'cuz I really had no idea how to get out of this one. Every time I've been cooped up in one of these places, it's always been Sy to save me, either directly or indirectly. But now that he was gone and Dylan was in control. . .If all we had was Frankie and Joey, then. . .

I jumped a little as I heard a loud _thwack!_ I looked around and saw Dylan had simply dropped my shoe back to the floor. Shaking myself free of the muddle that was my thoughts, I said, "Either way, right now, we're still wanted alive by people more important than you. When that dude over there-" I nodded over to the whitecoat, hanging back by the door. "-said you specially requested to keep us alive, does that mean you won't kill us after we refuse to compete?"

Dylan shrugged, turning and leaning against the wall so he could face me. "Maybe. Or maybe I'm just screwing with you and Poseidon."

I went still and Dylan's eyes gleamed.

"Yep," he said casually, though I could see his excitement. He knew he'd gotten me with that, and he was going to use it any way he could. "Even now, I feel him trying to regain control. Just seeing you is torture for him. He misses you." Dylan laughed. "How pathetic is that?"

_Not pathetic at all, you stupid, idiotic. . .stupid. . .GRAH! _I yelled every obscenity I knew in my head, careful to keep my face as blank as possible. My fists were so tight my arms were quivering, and my fingers were going numb.

"If you have nothing useful to say, you should leave," Con said emotionlessly. He straightened up, turning his head so his neck cracked. Me, Dylan, and the whitecoat all flinched. "This is getting boring."

"It really is," I agreed. Yawning obviously, I leaned my head on Con's shoulder and closed my eyes. "Wake me after you're gone, or at least done spewing crap in the form of words from your mouth."

"Get off me," Con mumbled half-heartedly, jerking his shoulder. It was a good thing he did, too, otherwise I wouldn't've opened my eyes and seen the momentary flash of blue taint the red of Dylan's irises.

I went momentarily still, my hands clenching on the edge of the cot. Just because I'd touched Con, Dylan had. . .hmm.

Interwesting.

Perhaps something could come of this. . .

Almost as a test, I dropped my head onto Con's shoulder again, this time watching Dylan carefully.

And again, I saw the tiniest flicker of sapphire behind those ruby eyes. And, because I was looking closely, I also registered the tiniest jerk of his head.

"Seriously? Get off," Con snapped, much more forcefully this time. He even slid away from me so I wouldn't try again, but I really wasn't paying attention to him anymore. I'd found a tiny window past the Dylan persona, a tiny window to Sy.

(Never took him for the jealous type.)

Now, if I could only break it fully. . .

I smiled.

Because, even though I'd never do it under normal circumstances because Con would pretty much kill me dead, it'd be kinda fun. Just to see their reactions.

I heaved a sigh and leaned back on my hands again, purposefully laying one over Con's fingers. He tried to twitch away, but I tightened my grip so I was practically holding his hand. I glanced quickly at Dylan out of the corner of my eye, smirking to myself as I saw him go still, putting a hand to his head as if it pained him.

_Come on, Sy, you can do it,_ I thought. _I'm right here waiting._

Con snapped his hand from my grip, hissing at me, "Why do you keep touching me?"

"We're wasting time here," said the whitecoat, eyebrows skeptically raised at me and Con. I quickly tried to look my innocent-est. _Most_ innocent. Shaking his head, he turned, and went for the door.

My heart leaped. If we were fast enough, maybe we could. . .

Damn. The scientist hesitated before opening the door, looking over at Dylan. "Come on. I told you you could have five minutes."

"It's been four," Dylan said softly, his eyes never leaving me. Again, I shifted uncomfortably; then I got an idea. I slid over close to Con, wrapped my arm through his, and stage-whispered in his ear, my eyes always keeping watch on Dylan.

"He keeps staring at me," I said. "It's creepy."

Dylan's jaw clenched, his eyes changing. _Come on, come on! _I thought. _You can do it! You can beat him, Sy. I know it's making you all jealous to see me doing this, so make me stop!_

But then the blue swirled away into red, and a shiver passed through Dylan's frame. He momentarily bowed his head to compose himself, and I tried not to curse aloud, let any frustration show on my face. _Dammit!_

"What's. . ._creepy_ is you being all over me all of a sudden!" Con said back to me. He seemed to know I was up to _something_, because he was speaking softly enough so only I heard him, but his dislike of my touching him was overwhelming his ability to blindly follow my lead. He hurriedly detached his arm from mine, nearly falling off the end of the cot in his haste to escape me.

I bit my lip to hide a smirk, because, well, it was funny. Especially since I knew _I _used to be the same way-almost phobic of other people touching me, even my friends.* But I'd just given up, though, because the more I avoided being touched the more they tried to touch me. Apparently they did it part to annoy me, part to see my reactions, and part to actually help me get over my fear of hugs.

Con glared at me and I winked hugely-his eyes widened a fraction and I bit my lip again, this time so I wouldn't laugh.

"Don't think I don't know what you're trying to do, Spark," Dylan said in a low voice, and both Con and I looked at him. The fish hybrid pushed himself off the wall and crossed the room until he was standing just before the cot, paused as if he was deliberating whether he should hit me or not. (I wouldn't be all that surprised if that's really what he was thinking about.)

"Westerfield," the whitecoat at the door said warningly. He opened the door and waited. "Time."

"I have thirty seconds," Dylan snapped, glaring over his shoulder at the whitecoat. I glanced at Con, who'd tensed-he, too, saw the open door. And the lack of any robots and backup guards beyond it.

I looked back up at Dylan. Feigning innocence, I said, "What is it I'm supposedly trying to do?"

He smirked down at me. "You're trying to get him back."

"Get who back?" I asked, playing dumb. I quelled the urge to twirl my hair around my finger and say "like" unnecessarily like some dumb blond. Throwing caution to the winds I grabbed Con's hand again, slipping my other arm around his waist as I leaned against him. "I'm really fine like this. Who're you talking about?"

Con whipped his hand out of mine so fast it was like I'd burned him. He stumbled to his feet and backed away from the cot, his steely gray eyes telling me I'd just signed my own death warrant. I would've laughed, but Dylan-who apparently didn't care one way or another if Con was even in the room-drew my attention away by uttering a single word.

"Poseidon," he whispered, ruby eyes sparkling with malice.

All urge to laugh evaporated, and I glowered up at Dylan as best I could, fists clenching in the thin sheet on the cot.

"You miss him, too, don't you?" Dylan leaned slightly downwards, so his face was more on level with mine. Still smirking, he continued in the same low, measured voice. "I bet you hate me. Hate that I'm stronger than him. That I'm in control. That they're my eyes you're staring at. My voice you're listening to."

He must've done this a thousand times before, because everything he'd just said, and the way he'd said it, had struck home. I _did_ miss Sy. And I _did_ hate Dylan, and the fact that he was in control, and the fact that his eyes were that stupid color red, and that his voice was so quiet and benevolent and. . .and. . ._f*ck!_

I lost it for a second and backhanded him across the face. His head snapped aside and I dimly heard Con yell at me, but his words didn't process. All I heard was Dylan's low chuckle, his satisfaction that he'd gotten to me.

I glared as viciously as I could as he straightened up, cool as ever. For a second I was glad to see that his cheek was red from my blow, but then I saw he was still smirking that annoying, cocky smirk, and I hated myself for letting him get to me.

"I hate you," I spat at him.

Dylan grinned mischievously, his eyes glinting with delight.

I wanted to hit him. Again.

"I know."

And then, all of a sudden, the lights went out.

The sudden contrast from light to dark left spots dancing in front of my eyes, but that didn't mean nothing had moved. On impulse I raised my legs and snapped out a kick, connecting with Dylan's waist. I heard him grunt in pain and fall back to the floor, but then the next thing I knew someone had grabbed my hand and was dragging me in the direction of the door. (And I think I kinda tripped on Dylan in the process. Serve him right.)

My first instinct was to do what the whitecoat did-curse, demand what was going on, etc.-but then I heard him fall, too, and me and whoever was dragging me along whooshed through the open doorway and I realized what was happening:

We were making our escape.

"C'mon, you idiot, run!" Con hissed at me, pulling on my arm. "We only have five minutes!"

As to be expected, I didn't take _that_ lying down. (I took it running! Ha, ha. Stand in awe of my silly literalness.) In a whisper I snapped back, "Well maybe I _would _run if you weren't trying to lead me like a little kid!" I tried to pull my hand away, but he just kept his grip.

"You're no use in the dark right now!" he snapped. "I bet you still can't see a thing, so just shut up and run!"

He was right (sadly). My eyes were adjusting much more slowly than I was used to-all I saw was black, and more black. A flicker of my childhood fear of the dark rose in me, and suddenly the fact that Con had my hand didn't seem so bad.

"What the hell's wrong with my eyes?" I cried out in frustration. I dragged my free hand across them, as if rubbing them would help.

"It's the hypomaladrine," Con told me, dragging me around a corner. We didn't slow down for a second, because in the distance we could hear people yelling and feet pounding and other ominous noises associated with humans stumbling around in the dark. "I told you it slowed us down, remember?"

"Well, yeah, but still," I said, aware of how annoyed I sounded.

Then, totally taking me by surprise, Con _chuckled._

"Don't worry," he said, his tone darkly amused. "I'm not gonna try anything in the dark."

"Oh! You little. . .dirty-minded freak!" I kicked at him, but because I couldn't see I couldn't aim, and he easily dodged it, snickering again. Stumbling, I snapped, "I really wish you'd just grow up!"

"Hey, at least I'm _saying_ something," he said in his defense. I could practically hear the smirk in his voice. "Unlike _some_ people."

"I was doing that for a reason," I said sharply. "And not," I added quickly, "because you're just _so incredibly good-looking_." I hoped he saw the roll of my eyes to accompany the heavy sarcasm.

"Fine then," he said lightly. "But enlighten me. Why _did _you throw yourself at me?"

"I did not _throw _myself at you," I said indignantly. Then I hesitated. "Well, maybe I did a little," I amended. Then I shook my head. "But that doesn't matter. Point is, when I put my head on your shoulder that first time, I saw Dylan's eyes turn blue. It was only for like a second, but it still happened. And it _kept_ happening just about every time I touched you."

"So your plan was to pretend to be all over me so you could make him jealous and get him back," Con recapped. He scoffed. "Sounds like a Disney sitcom."

"I _wish_ this was a Disney sitcom," I said. "At least then our biggest fear would be cheesy jokes and bad acting. And I was _not_ all over you."

"Was that last part necessary?" he asked.

"That was to see your face when I did that," I replied dryly. "And let me tell ya, it was priceless."

"Whatever," he growled, giving up. "Don't do it again. I hated it."

"Yeah? Same here," I replied, but then I slammed into him. "Ow! Why'd you stop?"

"There's a vent," he said. He knocked lightly on a wall, telling me where it was, but he hadn't needed to-my eyes were finally adjusting to the blackness, and I could just make him out, a darker figure against the pale wall. "At the top of this wall."

"So?" I said, waiting for the brilliance of his plan to unfold.

"So now we can stop running and actually try something productive," he explained, dropping my hand. He turned toward me and hunched down, his hands laced together in a cradle. "Okay, up you go."

I stared at him. "Up _I_ go? Up _you_ go!"

"Do not argue with me," he said flatly, though I could hear the irritated edge to it. "You're lighter, and even if you can't pull me up I can jump it. In your current condition, you can not. So up. You go."

"Your. . .mom," I grumbled, putting my hands on his shoulders and my foot in his hands.

"Creative. Really," he said, easily lifting me up; I quickly released his shoulders to brace my hands against the wall. I hesitated, blinking as I tried to re-orient myself. I found myself level with a dull metal grate, barring the way into the vents of the ship. (Sometimes it was kinda hard to remember we were on a boat.)

I shook my head, then glared down at Con for his remark. "I will kick you in the face."

"I dare you," he challenged, and I momentarily stopped my fussing with the vent's grate to draw back the foot he wasn't holding. He flinched. "Okay, no, I lied."

"That's what I thought. Dumbass." Still bracing one hand against the wall, I dug through my pockets with the other, searching for anything that would be able to unscrew the screws holding the stupid grate in place. I came up with a pop tab-you know, the little whatever-it-is that opens aluminum cans.

"Would you hurry up?" Con said impatiently. I wasn't particularly worried that I was too heavy for him-I was light, and he was strong. He was just getting annoyed that it was taking so long.

And it was kinda weird that I knew that.

"Only if you would _shut_ up," I shot back, working the pop tap around. Slowly but surely, the screw came loose, soon falling from the wall to land with a little clinking noise on the tile by Con's feet. I quickly undid the other three screws, very aware of the fact that time was ticking onward, and that our five minutes of lights-out was getting closer and closer to being used up.

"Shit!" I cursed and wobbled as Con suddenly switched from holding me up with two hands to holding me with just his right; the left had reached up to take the unscrewed vent grate from me.

"Just shut up and get in there already!" he snapped, pushing on my foot. Tossing a scowl at him I clambered into the vent, then turned around and leaned back out so I could help him up. He didn't even hesitate to grab my hand.

Which, again, was kinda weird.

But I digress.

I hauled him up after me and without so much as an exchanged insult, we started crawling-yet again, for me, because I just can't can't seem to get enough of the place-through the wonderful world of Air Duct Land.

* * *

*i really am kinda like that. i don't like people touching me much. but i couldn't help myself. haha. . .poor con. torturing him was just too good to resist ;)

spark and con are unconsciously growing closer. . .whatever will become of it?

this chapter seemed kinda weird. maybe even a little boring. all it really did was re-establish what everybody already knew and set up an escape. don't tell me i'm losing my touch. . .?


	15. Chapter 15

we broke 100 reviews last chapter! yay! love you guys ;)

disclaimer: don't own maximum ride.

* * *

_**15. the (not so) great escape**_

"Hm." I glanced over what I could see of the room, leaning my chin in my hand. "This room speaks to me. And I have a feeling it's saying _joy-sucking hellhole of doom_."

". . .It looks like a classroom," Con said.

"I sense no difference between those two descriptions." I let out a breath of disappointment. "Ah well. Nothing here. Let's keep going."

This particular vent had opened through a wall rather than a ceiling, so in order for us both to look through it I'd had to lie on my stomach while Con hovered over me (a position I'd rather not repeat with a boy I normally hate from the very bottom of my soul). But anyway, Con scoffed at my comment, backed up into the main duct, and took the lead to the next room. I got up to my hands and knees and followed him.

We were-as should be obvious-searching for the flock. Well, flock_s_. Plural.

The lights had come back on about thirty seconds after we'd escaped into the vents-they'd been out for exactly five minutes, just as Frankie had said (or so I'd been told). Frankie had also apparently given Con directions to the flocks' cell, but one of them must've screwed up because now Con and I were kinda lost. Either Frankie had the wrong directions or Con hadn't remembered them right. We'd been crawling around for almost twenty minutes, searching.

Con hesitated for a second, then turned right, peering through the vent of another room. "No good. Another classroom."

"Joy-sucking hellhole of doom," I corrected, crawling forward towards a grating in the floor. Well, the floor of the vent, the ceiling of another room. I glanced down it, then went very still.

"What's the hold-up?" Con asked irritably. "Why the hell'd you stop?"

I swiftly slid forward, then turned back around and beckoned with my hand. "Come here and look," I whispered, still keeping my eyes glued to the room below. "And be prepared to curse me yet again."

Con sighed, but crawled forward so he could see into the room. He blinked in surprise. "It's. . ."

"The same incredible good luck that has gotten me away from you so many times in the past," I said lightly. "If I could write this down I'd let you read it and weep."

He didn't reply, and I knew why. Down below, from where we did lie, the kids of our flocks drew his eye.

(Hee-hee. I can rhyme.)

(Though it was funner last time.)

(. . .Funner isn't a word.)

(I'd know 'cuz I'm a nerd.)

(I would go on, but Con seemed to be speaking.)

(So at least for now, less rhymes I'll be seeking.)*

"-ar us?"

I blinked, shaking myself free of my rhyming mental babbling. "Sorry, I zoned out. What was that?"

Con rolled his eyes. "I _said_, these vents carry sound, so we need to be quiet, but if we're quiet how will _they_-" He nodded down to the flocks. "-hear us?"

"That's your dilemma?" I asked. Smirking in response to his glare, I lightly tapped my knuckle on the wall of the duct. Whispering, I called out, "Yo, Iggy!"

"Oh, sure, like he's gonna hear _that_." Con rolled his eyes.

"You shut up." I tapped again. "Iggy!"

I thought I saw his head tilt, so I made to tap again, but Con stayed my hand. I looked up at him and saw he'd gone very still.

"Somebody's coming," he breathed.

So I listened, and then I, too, tensed as I heard it: determined stilettos striding across tiled floor. My hands clenched into fists as I watched Satan's crazy bitch of an ex-girlfriend (for the record, _he_ left _her_) burst into the room beneath us as if she owned the place.

Ariel, first-ever successful fish hybrid, put her hands on her hips and glared down upon Con and mine's respective flocks.

She hadn't changed much-her hair, as silver as Sy's, was a bit shorter than last I'd seen it, but it was still long, hanging in a thick curtain almost halfway down her back. Her ruby-red eyes were just as vicious as Dylan's, and she planted no-doubt well-manicured hands on her hips as she looked at each and every member of the entire collection of bird-kids. Well, entire minus two.

She was dressed in tight, dark blue designer jeans, and a zebra-print blouse. As always, she was wearing deadly black heels on her feet-emphasis on deadly. Because last time I'd seen Ariel, she'd tried to impale me on one of those things. And she probably would've succeeded in killing me, too, if Blaze's stray bullet hadn't hit her in the shoulder and given me an opportunity to break free. Just thinking about it made me tremble with rage.

"Shhh," Con said softly, sensing me shaking.

"I hate her so much," I whispered. I was just itching to bust out of the vent and take her out. "My God, I just. . ."

"Husshhhh. . ."

Perhaps Max should take a leaf from Con's book, because I was yet again compelled to listen to him. I clenched my jaw tightly and entertained myself with thoughts of revenge on Ariel-most of which involved her losing all her pretty silver hair, and getting stomped on by her attractive heeled shoes-but I remained quiet, which was the main thing.

"Well?" Ariel barked.

The super-flock of good and evil bird-kids looked at each other.

"What about a well?" Blaze finally asked. "Is Timmy stuck down one?"

"A _Lassie_ reference?" I whispered to Con. "Really?"

"Shut up," he said softly. He held out his hand. "And give me that pop tap so I can start unscrewing this thing."

"Fine," I mumbled, dropping the tab in his palm. Resting my chin on my folded hands, I cast my eyes down into the cell below, straining my ears to listen to the conversation.

"Cut the crap!" Ariel snarled. "I want to know what happened to the lights!"

"Well, they went out," Max said reasonably. "For, I dunno, five minutes? Why're you asking us?"

"Yeah, we were stuck in here," Fang said, as if Ariel were stupid. (Which, in my opinion, she was.)

"Completely trapped," Iggy added cheerfully.

"Without any access whatsoever to any lighting or electrical equipment," Blaze finished.

"And since we're all _still_ here," Max said, "why would you think we had anything to do with it? If anything we would've used that time to escape. But we didn't, did we?"

"Raise your hand if you're not here," Iggy said, pretending to look around the room. The younger ones snickered, and I think I even saw Blaze crack a smirk.

Ariel was not amused. I could practically see the steam blowing out of her ears. "_You_ didn't escape," she spat, "but the other two did!"

"What other two?" the Gasman asked innocently.

"I thought we were the only ones here," Nudge added. "So, like, who else was here that could've escaped?"

"Spark and Constantine, dumbass!" Ariel yelled. "And they _did_ escape! And I know you know that!"

"Wait, they were _here?_" Blaze interrupted, looking serious. I found myself half-smiling at her acting skills; I almost believed her. "When were they captured? The same time as the rest of us? Or after?"

"I thought Spark was dead," Shadow piped up, and I looked up at Con. He just shrugged, so I pulled a face.

"Well, she's not," Ariel snapped at him. "She's loose on the ship, and I know you guys are in it with somebody who made it happen!"

"Don't you think it's rather stupid of her to tell them we're loose?" I whispered. "It gives them hope of us rescuing them."

"She's pissed," Con replied. "Not thinking straight. Now shut up, how many times do I have to tell you?"

"That was only three in the past five minutes."

"Just shut up."

"Four."

_"Sh!"_

"_I_ am part of the group in charge of you once you refuse the Director," Ariel said venomously to the flocks. Varied looks of surprise flickered among their expressions-guess they weren't as in the loop as me or Con. "There was an idea to keep you alive, but now I don't think you're worth it."

In a whirl of silver hair Ariel turned and stalked for the door. Flinging it open, she left, slamming it shut behind her. There was a tiny _click_ of a lock, and after a few seconds the echo of her heels faded away.

"Well." The super-flock jumped at my voice, and Iggy tilted his head toward the ceiling. "_That_ was certainly informative. The last bit at the end, anyway."

"For once, you're right," Con replied, just as loud as I'd been. I watched with more than a little amusement as the kids beneath us looked around, wondering why none of them were looking up toward the ceiling. "I had no idea they really wanted to keep us alive. I thought Dylan was just saying stuff."

"For _once_ I'm right?" I repeated, feigning shock. "Con, I'm _always_ right. Mostly."

He rolled his eyes. "The _always_ and the _mostly_ cancel each other out."

"They do not!" I argued, but before I got any further Blaze interrupted.

"Okay, where the hell are you guys?" she said loudly, her frustration clear in her voice. I snickered.

"We're inside your heee-eaaaad, ooo-oooooh," I said in my best spooky voice.

"Will you shut up?" Con said irritably, giving me a look. He shoved the vent's grate aside (guess he'd successfully and silently unscrewed it) so we could finally have a clear view down into the room. "We're in the vents, Blaze, look up."

Automatically everyone looked up, a few eyes widening as they saw Con and me leaning over the opening in the air duct. I waggled my fingers in a wave, making the younger kids (of the good half of the super-flock, at least) smile and giggle.

"Con!" Blaze said, just as Max cried, "Spark!"

"Yes, yes, hello, my ducklings," I said, flipping my braided hair back over my shoulder. The end of it whacked Con in the face, causing much laughter from below.

"This is why I hate girls with long hair," Con said, frowning at me.

"You hate girls?" I echoed. "Are you gay? You should've told me that before! I wouldn't've objected so much to sleeping with you had you said that!" My brain caught up to my mouth and I stopped, realizing what I'd just said. "Wait. That came out wrong."

"Um, _yeah_," Con said uncomfortably into the awkward silence. "_Really_ wrong."

"Sleeping with you in the same room," I said, trying to correct myself. "No, wait. Um. . ._me_ sleeping while _you _were _in _the room. Yeah. That's what I meant!"

"Just stop talking, please."

"Okay."

"Good," Con said, letting out a breath. Then he nodded down at the room. "Now go on. You go first."

I frowned. "I'm not jumping that far, are you crazy? I feel crappy enough as it is. Besides, I went first last time."

"If someone randomly comes back, it'll be easier for me to pull you back up real fast," he said logically. "So go. Or would you rather I push you?"

". . .No," I said sullenly, though I shifted around anyway. Con jerked back as I swung my feet toward the opening in the air duct. "Watch your face."

"Thanks for the heads-up," he replied sarcastically.

"That's what you get for always making me go first," I retorted, sticking my tongue out at him. He responded by giving me the bird. I dropped my feet through the vent and, gripping the edges of the opening with my fingertips, I lowered myself down into the room below. Once I deemed I had no more willpower to hang there, I dropped, bending my knees on impact but still nearly falling over as the shock of it made my legs go all tingly. I'd just straightened up when Con fell lightly beside me.

"This room has a crazy-high ceiling," I said, brushing air-duct-grit from my shirt. "It's like twice as high as ours."

"They put more kids in here," Con replied, rolling his head so his neck cracked. Just like before, I flinched. "Get over it."

"I will not," I said defiantly. "Just to spite you."

"Con!"

"Spark!"

Con echoed my surprised "ow" as we were attacked with hugs by the youngest kids of the super-flock-him by Shadow, me by Angel, Gazzy, and Nudge. The elder kids got up more slowly, watching us with varied expressions of unease.

"I knew you weren't dead!" Angel kept saying, and the dark spots on my shirt told me she was crying. "I knew it!"

" 'Course I'm not dead," I said, ruffling her hair. "Whoever said I was dead?"

"Shadow did," Nudge told me, looking over at the anti-flock side of the room. "He said Con stabbed you, and that there was blood everywhere, and that you stopped breathing, and that. . ."

I didn't hear much more, because just then I detached myself from the kids and whirled around to glare at Shadow.

"Where the hell do you get off telling people I'm dead?" I demanded. "Newsflash! Still alive and kicking over here!"

Shadow looked at me, chocolate-brown eyes narrowing in dislike.

"Con killed you," he told me flatly. "I saw it. You just came back to life somehow without anybody knowing."

"You-" I was about to yell at him for causing Max's flock unnecessary worrying, but then I realized he was right-nobody _had_ known I'd been saved. Nobody but Con, and. . .Dylan. I shook my head, refusing to get into an argument with an eight-and-a-half-year-old.

"Sounds like being stuck with Con hasn't changed ya," Iggy said, and I glanced over to see that he was grinning. With unerring precision he reached out and ruffled my hair like I was a little kid. "Nice to hear your voice again, Spark."

I cracked a smile, but before I could say anything back to him, Fang asked quietly, "What were you even doing with Con?"

"We were. . ." Con began, but I cut him off.

"Well, we were _trying_ to elope, but for some reason we couldn't find a minister on this stupid, god-forsaken boat," I said, shrugging. Angel giggled, and I winked at her before looking back at Con. "I _told_ you we'd have more luck in Vegas."

He glared at me.

"What?" I said, playing dumb.

"What d'you _think_ we were doing?" Con demanded, still glaring at me but talking to Fang. "We were celled together, and now we're escaping. So come on, we don't have all day."

The anti-flock automatically readied themselves to blindly follow their leader, but, as I was not leader of the rest, they looked to Max in semi-confusion. She looked at me long and hard, as if trying to see if I'd gone over to the dark side. I waved at her again, smiling brightly, and she almost smiled back, which I took as a sign that I was still a part of her flock.

"Con's right," she said, glancing around at the younger kids. "Let's get outta here."

There were cheers, and happiness, and exclamations of excitement, until. . .

"Hey, why aren't you guys wearing shoes?" Avi asked suddenly. Everybody looked at her and she blushed slightly; then they looked at me and Con again. Following their lead, I glanced down, and saw that I was indeed shoe-less.

"Uh. . ." Con said, apparently not knowing what to say.

"Huh. That is. . .so weird," I said, hearing my own puzzlement. "I could've sworn we put them back on." (Though, after thinking about it, I realized there hadn't really been time, what with the hitting of Dylan and the lights going out and the running out of the room. . .)

"Why would you take them _off?_" Fang asked mildly.

"Well, it all started with some tequila, spin the bottle, and a dark room," I began.

"That's _not true_ and it _doesn't matter_," Con quickly interrupted as Iggy started laughing. "We just need to get out now. We're already behind, so let's just. . ."

"Behind?" more than a few people echoed.

"This was planned," Blaze explained impatiently. "The lights would go out, those two would escape, and then they'd come to us. But they're late," she finished rather snippily, glaring at me. I held up my hands in defense.

"Hey, it's not_ my_ fault," I said. Pointing at Con, I added, "_He_ was the one who got us lost."

"I did _not_ get us _lost!_" Con snapped, but then Max overrode him.

"It doesn't matter!" she said loudly. "What matters is all of us getting out of here, right?"

"If you want to talk about the immediate matter, then yes," I replied. "If we're talking about future, however. . ."

Con, Blaze, and Max all snapped at me to shut up.

"Well, fine then," I replied, clasping my hands behind my head. "Let's _not_ think about the future and just focus on getting out of here. How are we going to do that?"

"Hopefully when the lights went out, so did the security cameras," Blaze said. She jerked her head back at the door to the room. "With everybody out looking for you guys, nobody's out there watching _us_, so we just break this door down and make a run for it."

"That seems impossibly easy," I said. "But let's go for it. I'm sure nothing will go wrong."

Iggy snickered and Blaze rolled her eyes. "Like any of _your_ plans are more complicated."

"Oh, but they are," I said convincingly. "Like, my plan to steal the loose change from my mom's purse without her knowing is ridiculously complex."

"I'm so sure." Turning away from me, she said, "Swift, start on the door. We're wasting time staying here."

My head tilted. "Talon can pick locks?"

The anti-flock stared at me incomprehensibly-Swift just glared furiously.

"What? I call him Talon," I said. "It's the most logical name _I_ can come up with."

"And yet, _you're_ the one who named him," Blaze said. I stopped. "How odd."

"Wait, really? 'Cuz if that's true then I'm really disappointed in myself. . ."

"Yeah, really," Blaze said. She then pointed to herself. "And you were the first one to call me Blaze."

I glanced at Con. "Don't tell me I named you too."

He shook his head. "No. I was created in Russia. I came to the Factory as Constantine. But you were the one who called me Con. Then you zapped me on accident, and I called you Spark, and it stuck."

"Huh. Is it too late to change that?" I looked around at Max and the flock. "From now on, everybody call me Electra."

"Don't be ridiculous," Con started to say.

"Oh, wait, you're right," I said before he could finish. "That doesn't fit me at_ all_. Hmm. . .call me Adorabelle, okay? Much more interesting."

"Can we just _go?_" asked a quiet, scratchy voice, and we all turned to see Swift waiting by the open door.

Nudge's mouth dropped open. "So you _can_ talk," she said. Swift rolled his eyes, and she started babbling. "Well, I mean I knew you could, because you said something that one time when you were all trying to shoot us in that cave, but since then I haven't heard you say _anything_, hardly. . ."

"Nudge, he's not even listening to you," I interrupted as she drew breath. "Look, he walked right out."

She looked back at the door again and deflated. "Oh."

"I say we follow his lead," Max said briskly. "Let's get out of here."

"Amen to that," Blaze said, following Avi out the door. "I'm getting sick of you freaks."

"Same here," Shadow said enthusiastically, darting out just before Max and Angel got there. "I mean, it's just_ weird_ when we're not tryin' to kill 'em, and. . ." His voice faded.

I hung back in the cell, counting as everyone filed out before leaving myself. I pulled the door shut behind me and let out a breath.

"What were you doing in there?"

I jumped, then realized it was only Con-the rest of the super-flock had already gone out into the hall. He was looking at me funny. Not exactly frowning, but not ecstatically happy, either.

"What're you talking about?" I asked, stepping around him. "I wasn't doing anything."

"Those stupid cracks you kept saying weren't funny," he told me, and I glanced back at him. His eyes had narrowed. "Those cracks about you and me."

"Well, other people certainly thought they were funny," I said, and he rolled his eyes. "Besides, what's the big deal? It's not like I was serious. I never am."

"Yeah, and that's what annoys me," he grumbled, following me out into the hall. Before I could quip back, though, he'd left me, heading over to Blaze. After a few seconds the two of them started leading the way down the hallway, first at a walk, but then at a light run. The rest of us followed.

"You okay?"

I started, then realized Max had fallen back to run beside me at the back of the group.

"Sure. Why? Don't I look okay?" I asked. She shrugged.

"You just looked kinda mad for some reason."

"Well, I'm not." _Not at you, anyway._ I hesitated, then asked, "Why were you looking at me funny back in the cell? Like, right before everyone noticed we weren't wearing shoes, you were looking at me weird. What was it about?"

She glanced up ahead to be sure no one was hanging back and listening. "Well, I wasn't sure if you were still. . .you know. . .on our side," she said slowly. I rolled my eyes.

"Like I wouldn't be? Come on, Max, you know me." I paused. "Right?"

"I just thought. . .maybe, while you were stuck with Con, that, I don't know. . ."

"What?" I started to slow down, but with good reason-everyone else was coming to a stop as well, up where this hallway turned to another.

Max let out a breath, muttering to herself, "I guess now's as good a time as any. . ."

"Now's as good a time as any for what?" I asked warily, coming to a full stop. She stopped as well and realized the rest of the flock was near enough to hear what we were saying, and hestiated. "Now's as good a time as any for _what?_" I repeated.

"I. . .I wasn't sure what I was supposed to think at the time," Max said slowly, like she was still trying to sort it all out. "The Voice just flat-out said it, then upped and left."

Now I was just impatient. "Said _what?_"

Max looked at me, and for some weird reason I could see all the stress and emotion she felt-was _forced_ to feel-as leader of the flock. (Glad I wriggled out of _that_ job.)

"The Voice told me you were created to destroy the world."

At first, my mind just shorted out. Went completely blank. No thought whatsoever.

It was so totally weird.

But only for a second, because then I snapped out of it and blinked. "Don't you need creepy music to say something like that?" Max stared at me incredulously and I shrugged. "There's always creepy music playing in the background whenever anybody says something like that on TV."

"Spark, I'm serious!"

"So am I! Oh!" My face lit up and I held up a finger. "We need a soundtrack to our lives. Next time we're in town, I'm hijacking an iPod!"

"What are you guys talking about?" Nudge asked curiously, and Max and I both looked at her. I started a little when I realized everybody was staring at us.

"Uh. . ." Max said, glancing sidelong at me.

"Apparently I was made to destroy the world," I said, ignoring Max's death glare.

"You were _what?_"

Ignoring her flock, Max looked at Con and the anti-flock, none of who(m?) looked surprised. "Did you guys know this about her?" she asked, nodding at me.

"Yeah," Blaze said, shrugging a shoulder. "So?"

"_So? _So she's supposed to destroy the world and you never said anything?"

"There was no reason for us to tell you," Con said coldly. "You're our enemies. And besides, not many people are supposed to know that about her."

"Wait a minute," I interrupted, stepping forward. "Why does anybody think I even _want_ to destroy the world?"

"You were meant to stay with us," Con snapped at me. "You weren't supposed to run away."

I rolled my eyes. "Can we get over that already? I ran away. You're mad about it. There's nothing we can do to change it now, so let's just get _on _with our _lives_, _please!_"

"The point _is_," Blaze said before Con could retaliate, "that we-" She gestured to herself, the rest of the anti-flock, and me. "-are supposed to be Itex's ultimate weapon. We're their insurance policy. If the world doesn't let them take over, Spark can just blast 'em dead so Itex can just take over anyway."

"How_ever_," Con added, "some _idiot_ thought Spark could get carried away, and so they made _you_." He pointed at Max. "You're supposed to stop her in case she goes crazy."

"Too late for that," Iggy said. "She's already crazy."

"Thank you, for that." Iggy snickered and I rolled my eyes. "That whole theory's nuts. I mean, one, who said that even if I _didn't_ run away, I'd listen to the adults when they told me to destroy something? I don't listen to anybody."

"We know _that's_ right," Fang mumbled, but I ignored him.

"Two, who said Max could ever stop me if I destroyed the world and happened to like blowing stuff up for some crazy reason? I mean, Con beat her, and Con can only beat me if he cheats."

"He didn't beat me!" Max protested.

"I don't have to cheat to beat you!" Con growled.

"Um, can we talk about this stuff later?" Avi asked, and we all rounded to look at her. She shrugged her shoulders. "I mean, we're kinda in the middle of escaping, aren't we? There's time for arguing about who can beat who later."

"She's right," Iggy said reasonably. "If we keep standing around, they'll catch us."

"I don't hear anybody nearby, though," Angel told us. After a second she added, "But that doesn't mean there aren't any robots or anything around. I can't hear them because they don't have minds."

"Whatever," Con said, letting out a breath and running a hand through his hair. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "There's a set of stairs down that hall. They should lead us to an outer deck where we can just fly out, but I'm pretty sure they'll have guys posted to look out for us."

"So watch your backs," I said, a wave of apprehension rising in my chest. This plan seemed way too easy-there were too many flaws, too many things that could go wrong. "There are twelve of us, so if we scatter we'll be harder to catch. But it'd be better if the younger kids stuck to us older kids for protection."

"I don't need protection!" Shadow snapped, glaring at me. I glared right back.

"You are eight. And a half," I quickly tagged on before he could fuss. "And as such you're easy to contain. So stay with Con and don't do anything stupid."

Shadow frowned and looked up at Con. "That's what _you_ always say."

I blinked. "What? Stay with him?"

"Don't do anything stupid," Con said slowly, looking at me funny. "I used to tell you that, too."

"Well. . .whatever," I said, feeling uncomfortable. I rolled my shoulders, readying my wings. "Let's just get out of here."

Iggy's hand reached out and brushed my sleeve. "Tell me where to go?"

"Of course."

"Angel, stay with me," Max said, taking the little girl's hand. "Gazzy, you're with Fang."

"Okay, Max."

"Everybody ready?" Con asked, glancing over the super-flock. He got nods in return, and nodded himself. "Then let's go. Blaze, you go first."

"Why do you always make the girl go first?" I mumbled. Apparently I was louder than I thought, because Iggy and Fang snickered, and even Avi giggled a little. Con tossed a dirty look my way and I returned it with a smile.

'Cuz I'm just funny that way.

* * *

*ah, rhyming. that was really just for my own amusement.

since almost half of this chapter was supposed to be part of chapter fourteen, i was able to finish and update it more quickly. and since part of _this_ chapter was cut and bumped to chapter sixteen, that one will probably be finished quickly too. i really am trying to update more frequently, i promise-but my writing time is limited to when i can borrow my brother's computer, since mine's busted.

oh, and btw: the con/spark poll is still on my profile, but i'll be taking it down soon, so if you haven't voted already, you should do that. even though i've already decided on the matter, i like to know what others think. so yeah. . .


	16. Chapter 16

this chapter was kinda fun to write. you'll see why.

disclaimer: don't own maximum ride.

* * *

_**16. victory is won (not)**_

One thing I'll say about Blaze: the girl is sneaky. She made us wait at the bottom of the stairs so she could check it out ahead of us, and she came back down so quietly I jumped about a mile when she tapped my shoulder.

"You're such an idiot," she told me as Con, Shadow, Avi, and Swift all began ascending the stairs behind her.

"Well, _sorry_, but you were taking so long I got bored and started replaying scenes of _The Road to El Dorado_* in my head," I retorted. "Geez. Now depart, mortal! Before I strike you with a lightning bolt!"

She rolled her eyes, turning away as she mumbled, "That was a dumb movie."

"It so was not!" Tapping Iggy's hand to be sure he was following me, I started up the stairs after Blaze. "It was freakin' awesome! Don't tell me you've _never _gotten that trail-blazing song stuck in your head before on a hike!"

"I don't hike," she snapped back. "I live in the city."

"Well, _fine_ then," I said, but then I stopped talking as we reached the top of the stairs. And, ultimately, the deck of the ship.

We all stopped, instinctively double-checking that the coast was clear.

"Does anybody hear anything?" Max asked softly.

"The only thoughts I hear are from us," Angel said.

"I don't hear any footsteps or anything," Iggy added. "It's totally quiet."

Now, I didn't want to be cliché and say "too quiet," but it's really how I felt. I got a sudden, horrible flash of déjà vu, so I said, "Does anybody else have a weird feeling about this?"

Everybody turned to look at me warily, and I felt myself flush. Was I the only one? Did no one else feel anything _at all?_ I averted my eyes before people started asking if I was right in the head. "Sorry. Just nerves, I guess. Let's just. . ."

"No, you're right," Con said, and I stilled. My eyes snapped up to look at him, but he was still checking out what we could see of the deck. "Something's not right."

Shadow looked up at him. "Whaddaya mean?"

"Well, Spark and I escaped, right? They should be looking all over for us," he said. He glanced back and met my eyes momentarily, and for some reason my heart skipped a beat. _What?_ "They should expect for us to make a run for the deck. But no one's up here."

"Frankie said before that nobody would," Max said, her eyebrows coming together as she frowned. "He said he'd keep everyone down in the labs."

"I don't trust anyone who doesn't have wings," Con said flatly. He let out a breath and touched Shadow's shoulder, telling the younger boy to follow. "And even then it's iffy. But whatever. As soon as there's room, I want everybody to fly."

"Count heads when you're in the air," Max added, looking around at everyone a final time. "We don't want anyone getting left behind."

"Aw, but counting heads is boring," I said, faking a whine. "I say we count feet. Or fingers, even, that'd be a challenge. Twelve kids times two hands each times five fingers on each hand. . ."

Lots of eyes rolled, and I got a few annoyed "Spark!"s, too.

"What? I'm trying to lighten the mood."

"Let's focus on getting away first," Fang said, grabbing Gazzy's hand and pulling him up the stairs after him.

I considered a couple of different ways that I could've responded to that, but decided against it. He was right-there was time for snappy dialogue later. I felt Iggy's fingers brush the hem of my shirt.

"Two steps up and we'll be on the deck," I told him quietly. "I'll let you know when there's room to fly."

"Got it," was his only reply.

We went up the last two steps and started following the anti-flock, Fang, and Gazzy, with Nudge, Max, and Angel close behind. We were in some kind of windowed hallway, a glass wall separating us from the outside. It was night, I realized-time had sort of had no meaning in the cells. Our days and nights must've flipped at some point. I wondered absently just how long it'd been since we'd been kidnapped. A few days? A week? I shuddered to think it was anything longer than that.

"Why don't we just break a window?" I heard the Gasman ask Fang. "They already know we're out."

"They're not certain that we're still on the ship," Blaze called back in a whisper. "We need as big a head start as we can get, so we have to do this quietly."

I looked ahead and saw a door set into the glass. My heartbeat quickened-we were so close!

So, of course, it's _right then_ that things go to hell.

The hallway imploded, showering us with broken glass. One of the girls screamed, but I didn't have time to check who. Through the glittering dust caused by the breaking windows, I saw figures dressed in black darting in through the empty panes.

"M-Geeks!" Max yelled. "Run!"

_M-Geeks? Really now?_ I thought absently as I grabbed Iggy's hand and started pulling him along after me. One of the robots dropped down right in our path, but without missing a beat I raised my arm and flung it out. A yellow ball of electric light exploded from my fingers and slammed into the "M-Geek." The shock shorted out its system, and with a weird twitch it fell to the ground. Iggy and I leaped over it and ran for an opening in the wall.

_You couldn't've thought of a better name for them than that?_

"Shit!" I skidded a little and Iggy bumped into me. I hadn't realized there wasn't any room between the glass hall and the side of the ship-it just dropped away to the ocean.

My heart stopped and my breath caught in my throat.

"Spark, what's wrong?" Iggy asked. "What is it?"

I blinked and shook my head, but I couldn't take my eyes off the water. My heart was beating again, but it was slamming in my chest at a million miles an hour. Last time I'd been on this ship, the anti-flock had pushed me off it. And I'd almost drowned.

My knees buckled and I had to grab the side of the windowpane for support. Glass cut at my hand, but I hardly felt it; on either side, the others jumped out of the similarly-broken-out windows, but I hardly saw it. Sy wasn't here to save me if I fell this time.

"Iggy! Spark!" I dimly heard Max yell somewhere off to my right. "Move it, what are you waiting for?"

Iggy moved around me and jumped, unfurling his wings. The wind caught them and he flew up and away, toward where the others were waiting in the sky, guided by their yelling.

"Spark! Come _on!_"

* * *

Con swore under his breath and dived back toward the ship, passing by Iggy as he headed for Spark. He should've guessed that this could happen-her freezing up like she was. She _had_ almost drowned last time she'd been here, after all.

"Spark!" He barked out her name as he braked, hovering just outside her window. She had one hand on the windowpane, her fingers white as she gripped it. Blood trickled down her hand from the shard of broken glass still in the pane. He reached out and smacked her hand away. She flinched and looked up at him.

"You're not gonna die!" he said impatiently. "So come on already!"

She blinked, as if realizing he was there for the first time.

"You're not gonna die," Con repeated. "So come _on_. Let's _go_ so I can kill you some other time like I really, really want to."

She remained still, and he wondered if that last part had gone too far. But then her mouth twitched in a smile. He backed up as she flung herself out the window, her spotted wings opening to catch the air. She surged up over his head, kicking at the back of his wing lightly as she passed.

"Like I'll ever let ya!"

* * *

"What was wrong with you?" Iggy asked as I joined the group of bird-kids in the sky. I glanced back and saw Con catch up, his eyes raking over who was all here.

"Nothing," I said in reply. "I just, uh. . ."

I was saved from having to come up with a lie by Con. "Hey!" he yelled. "Everyone stop moving! I'm counting heads!"

I hadn't even glanced around once when Avi shrieked out, _"Swift's still down there!"_

We all looked down and saw thin black figures swarming the deck: M-Geeks. They were heading straight for the four bird-kids who, for some reason, were still aboard the _Princess Andromeda_. Maybe the hallway had gotten too clustered, or maybe they'd already made it outside it to the main deck.

One of the robotic guards caught up to Max and Angel, who were running for the side of the ship and tore the little girl from Max's hand. Angel screamed, but then Swift ducked back, jumped and spun-kicked at the M-Geek, his lethal hawk's talons snapping the robot's head off. Angel squirmed from its arms and ran, but she hadn't gone four steps when the rest of the guards caught up with her and the others.

I groaned, slapping my forehead with my head. "Aw, _damn. . ._"

"What's wrong?" Iggy called.

"We're missing forty fingers!" I called back, diving. "Max, Fang, Swift, and Angel are all still down there!"

In a second Con was tailing me, and as I glanced over at him I was struck by the sudden resemblance to Fang. Not that they really looked alike-I mean, sure, they both had black hair-but it was just the way his face was set, like whenever Fang followed Max even when he knew she was doing something crazy.

In truth? It was kinda creepy. 'Cuz Fang was kinda in love with Max. And Con hated my guts.

Or he was supposed to, at least.

I remembered Angel saying something to me, back in a cave somewhere in Georgia, right before Con and I had fought and he'd kinda-sorta killed me.

_Can't you tell, Spark? He loved you. And you ran away. He misses you._

I shook my head and flipped around in the air, bringing my feet around to smash into the head of one of the black-clad, ninja-like M-Geeks. Swift whipped around as I landed on the deck, Con not far behind me.

I waved a hand at him. " 'Sup, Talon?"

He frowned at me. "It's Swift."

"I know," I said, but I don't think he heard me, 'cuz he spun around and took out an M-Geek that had been trying to assault him from behind. I glanced around and saw everyone who'd been in the sky was back on the deck, and a wave of panic overcame me.

I remembered, all of a sudden, that stupid dream.

_No!_

"Guys!" I shouted as loud as I could. "We have to get off this boat!"

"Think we don't know that?" Max yelled at me, even as she chopped down on an M-Geek's collarbone.

"No, I'm serious! We really have to-"

I stopped mid-shout as, suddenly and for some reason unbeknownst to us, all the M-Geeks froze. A weird crackling sound went through each of them before the robots all dropped.

"What the. . .?" Con muttered and I glanced at him. His eyes were flicking around at the powerless robots, and he was shifting uneasily.

Con's being uneasy didn't make me feel all that better about the situation.

"Time's up, birdbrains," said a voice, and we all turned. Out from the shadows near the center cabin of the ship emerged a slightly distorted figure. He walked forward until he was in the moonlight and my fists clenched. It was Frankie, phased into his half-cat-like self. Hands that were more claws than actual hands, slitted yellow eyes, furry arms, pointed teeth. His ears stuck out weirdly from his head, and with a start I realized they were triangular cat ears. Something behind him moved and I realized he'd grown a tail, too.

But all the cat aspects aside, he looked kinda regretful, and I knew he'd really tried. It just hadn't been good enough.

"You didn't _really_ think we'd let you escape, did you?" We all swiveled to watch as Ariel appeared from the left side of the ship, exiting a hallway of glass that mirrored the hall we'd walked through. Before it, you know, got destroyed and all.

Dylan was right behind her. He turned cool ruby eyes on me, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. My fists clenched. Almost unconsciously, I began backing away, just like the rest of the flock. And anti-flock. I glanced around and realized thin, twig-like fish hybrids were closing in, along with toned, tanned cat hybrids. One girl I noticed had bright green hair.

"U and A," I heard Max mutter, and I readied my wings.

Then I saw Ariel go for something that was sticking out of Dylan's pocket-a remote, with three colorful buttons. Automatically I glanced down at my wrist. There was a sleek black bracelet around it, the same one that could turn into a magnetized handcuff at the press of a button. My heart sank as I realized we'd never even considered trying to take them off. How stupid were we?

"Three, two. . ."

"Max, no!" I hissed. "Not yet!"

She didn't hear me. "Now!" she cried, and she, Fang, Gazzy, and Nudge all leaped into the air, their wings snapping open. I noticed with surprise Avi and Shadow had leaped up with them.

Their escape attempt was short-lived. Ariel touched a button on the remote and I felt a slight tingle at my wrist before the real shock set in. I hunched over, grabbing my hand and biting my lip so I wouldn't scream-I tasted blood.

With varied cries of pain, those who'd tried to fly fell back to the deck, hard. I saw Swift try to rush at Avi, but then Ariel delivered another dose of electricity and he stumbled.

"Will ya cut that out?" Blaze yelled, her eyes flashing silver as she glared at the lead fish-girl. "We won't run! Just tell us what you want with us!"

Ariel smiled coldly and tossed the remote in the air; Dylan caught it easily, almost as if he'd expected her to throw it. Ariel began to walk forward, her heels clacking on the deck, and he was right behind her, shadowing her footsteps in an almost protective manner.

I felt like puking.

Though that was probably just from the electric shock.

"If you don't already know the answer to that question, then you're dumber than I thought," Ariel replied. She continued to advance, and the rest of them did, too, forcing us bird-kids to back into each other, forming a defensive semi-circle against their offensive semi-circle.

"Well, isn't this familiar?" I mumbled, my eyes flicking to and fro among all the enemies.

"Freakishly so," Con muttered from behind me.

"Wait." I blinked, then glanced over my shoulder at him. "This happened in _my_ dream. Why are _you_ familiar with it?"

"I. . ." Con blinked, looking puzzled. "I saw it in a dream, too."

"Okay, now you guys are sharing _dreams?_" Iggy said. "Majorly weird."

"Fang, stay away from Aqua," Con said, ignoring Iggy and still watching me warily.

"Who?"

"The girl with the hat, right?" I clarified, looking away from Con and nodding in the fish girl's general direction. She was smirking, and beside her, a boy with the same hair as her was pretending to inspect his fingernails, looking bored. "If she knocks you out. . ."

"Max'll see it and freak, giving Frankie an opportunity to take _her_ out. . ." Con interrupted.

"And we'll lose the fight from there," I finished.

"You guys are starting to creep me out," Blaze said bluntly. "You're supposed to hate each other."

"We do!" Con and I snapped at her at the same time. Then we looked at each other. "Stop that!"

"Whoa, cool!" the Gasman crowed. "Do it again!"

"Guys, it's no use fighting them," Max said, sounding frustrated. She raised her hand, upon which was a black cuff. "We've got these on, remember?"

"No problem," I said, with way more confidence than I felt. I closed my eyes, and, after a second, I heard a weird _crackle-hiss_. My arm jerked, but then my cuff dropped away from my wrist. I opened my eyes, smiling.

Fang whistled.

"Did you just short it out?" Nudge asked excitedly. She thrust her arm at me. "That was so cool! Do mine, do mine!"

"Everyone hold hands," I said, taking Nudge's wrist. When I got weird, disbelieving looks, I sighed and added, "If you're all touching I can short them all out at once."

"Like a current," Blaze said, stepping forward uncertainly to touch Nudge's other arm.

"Exactly. So go on, before they attack." I glanced around nervously again, but the kids around us kept shifting around, as if each one was picking one of us to fight. Ariel only had eyes for me. _Oh, joy._

"Well come on, do it already," Con said impatiently, his hands out to lightly touch Iggy and Avi. "I don't want to have to be touching Iggy a second longer than I have to be."

I found I was able to snicker.

"Yeah? Well, I don't like touching you either," Iggy retorted, turning his head to frown at Con. "You're pale, and it's weird. At least Blaze has some color-ahh."

"Nn!"

"Oh!"

"Ah!"

"Whoa!"

Different people let out different cries of surprise as the electric current passed through them, shorting out their handcuffs before moving on to the next person. One after another, the black bracelets hissed and snapped open, falling to the deck with a clatter that (sadly) drew the attention of our enemies.

"H-hey," said a small tan boy, pointing at us. The youngest of the cat group, I assumed. "They got their cuffs off!"

"Well, _that_ makes it more interesting," Dylan said, smirking. I could've punched him.

"Attack!" Ariel cried.

Then the fight began.

My first instinct was to fly, now that we weren't limited by the cuffs, so I jumped in the air, but Ariel was faster than I'd expected. She leaped at me and caught my legs, dragging me back down to the deck. We went crashing down, and I managed to kick her in the teeth. She shrieked in pain and twisted around, her hand glowing. I tried to get out of the way, but wasn't fast enough-her silver-tipped fingers (which were more like lethal talons, or so many knives) dragged across my calf, tearing through my jeans and slicing into my leg.

"Dammit!" I cursed, falling back down. I jerked my leg from her grip and tried to kick her face in, but she dodged. I scrambled back and tried to get up, but I hadn't even moved a foot when Ariel lunged at me, hands catching my shoulders and slamming them down.

I yelled and squirmed, but she was straddling me, my arms pinned to my sides by her legs. I glared up at her and saw she was already panting, her ruby eyes gleaming. She smiled a blood-filled smile at me.

"Ever since Chicago, I've been waiting so long for this," she told me.

"What, to be on top of me?" I asked snidely. "I know I'm pretty, Air, but come on."

Fury twisted her expression, and one of her hands lifted from my shoulder so she could slap me across the face. Her silvery fingers scratched my face and I cried out.

"Bitch!" I snarled, and bucked her off me. She fell sideways and I slipped out from under her leg, grabbing at one of her ankles. I caught hold and twisted, hard.

She screeched in pain and kicked at my hand with her free foot. The heel slammed into my knuckle and pain exploded in my hand. I let go, swearing a blue streak and clutching my hand, which was bleeding; the stiletto had scraped my knuckles open.

"Don't think about it!" someone yelled, and I whirled to see Blaze watching me. She shoved a cat boy away from her and darted across the deck to me, pulling something from her pocket. My heart lifted, because I thought for a second she was pulling her gun, but that hope was short-lived: it was just a faded old bandana.

"About what? My broken hand?" I snapped at her. "Kinda hard not to!"

"Shut up and do what I tell you to do!" Blaze growled, taking my hand and tying the bandana around it tightly. I bit down on a yelp of pain. "If we get out of this I'll fix it later!"

I nodded at her. "Thanks."

"Whatever." She whirled, fire dancing over her fingers as she flung a fireball at the boy she'd been fighting, who'd been trying to get her from behind.

I turned to look for Ariel, but she'd disappeared. I glanced around and saw Con take a hit from Joey; he retaliated with a roundhouse kick. I saw Iggy and Dylan rolling around together not too far from Con and Joey, each trying to get the upper hand. Max and Frankie were furthest from me, circling each other like tigers. Near them, a girl with the same cat features as Frankie and Joey and the others was trying to escape a headlock from Gazzy.

Then a high cry drew my attention and my eyes flicked over to the green-haired girl from earlier, who was repeatedly kicking Shadow in the gut. The little blond boy had curled into a defensive ball, but he couldn't help crying out with pain.

Rage burned inside me, and I started running. I raised my arm, lightning tickling my arm. . .

And then something slammed into my back, and I yet again tumbled down to the _Princess Andromeda_'s deck. I skidded, and sparks flew from where my injured hand banged against the hard wood. _Mother f*ck!_

Of course, it was Ariel. I felt her delicate hands trying to wrap around my throat in an attempt to strangle me. I arched my back, bunched my legs up, and pushed off, somersaulting so she flipped off me, landing flat on her back before I landed on top of her.

"Get the f*ck off me!" she screamed, her silver-capped fingers digging into my wings. I yelled angrily and rolled away, getting up to my feet and raising my hand again, electric light gathering around my uninjured hand. Ariel sprang right up and came at me, eyes alight with fury.

I ducked, then quickly straightened up and slammed my lightning-powered fist into Ariel's jaw and she fell, screaming, to the deck. She curled into a fetal position as the electricity shocked her and I took a second to catch my breath, once again glancing around.

Shadow had gotten up, and was on the green-haired girl's back, one arm around her neck while the other hand yanked mercilessly at her hair. She was shrieking in pain, staggering around trying to throw him off. I heard a yell and turned to see the boy who'd looked bored earlier backing away, hunched over and hugging his sides. Swift was there, too, his leg raised and his talons bloody. Ouch.

Nudge had used her magnetism to get a pipe, and she kept swinging it at a cat-boy who looked about her age. He kept leaping back and darting forward, but he couldn't get close to her. Not too far from them, Avi was moving so fast in her fight with a black fish-girl that the two seemed to be dancing. I noticed, beyond_ them_, that Angel was making the youngest of the cat-kids repeatedly drag his own claws across different parts of his body; his clothes were already shredded and bloody.

(That child is getting downright scary with that mind-controlling business of hers.)

In the seconds it took for me to take it all in, I wondered if we'd make it out of this. Blaze hadn't sounded too optimistic, but if everybody just got a chance to fly, we'd-

My mind shorted out as I saw Fang fighting with the girl with the hat. Aqua, Con had said her name was.

My breath caught.

_No! Get away from her, we told you to stay away!_

Aqua ducked a punch, dropping to the deck and swinging her legs around to catch Fang's ankles. He went crashing down and Aqua jumped up, slamming her foot to his temple. His head snapped aside, and he stopped moving.

Almost automatically, I looked to the other side of the ship, and I saw Max. She was staring at Fang, her face white. I tried to shout a warning, but nothing came out of my mouth.

Frankie came up behind Max and slashed at her with his paw-the claws ripped her shirt, but I didn't see blood. She spun, but he met her with a kick to the side. She went flying into the rails and hit her head.

Like Fang, she stopped moving.

Just like in my dream.

Ariel sprang up suddenly and I jumped back, suddenly focused on my fight with her again. I got so into it with her that I didn't notice everyone else was losing and dropping like so many flies; or at least, I didn't notice until she pushed me and I fell back. Con thudded down not too far away and I glanced around, realizing with horror that we were the only two still conscious.

I scrambled to my feet. And, though it seemed terribly like a cliché scene from a stupid action movie, I couldn't help but drift towards Con, until we were standing practically back-to-back. It just felt safer that way. I hadn't realized how much taller than me he was till now-like, if I was facing him, my nose would be just about level with his shoulder.

Anyway.

Without taking my eyes off the cat-kids before me, I told him quietly, "I blame you for this."

"Yeah?" he said, just as quietly. I felt his wings quivering at his back-he was just itching to fly out of here, though I knew he never would. Not now. "Why's that?"

"If you weren't so hung up on me this never would've happened," I said evenly, my eyes falling on the youngest cat-kid. If I took him out, maybe the others would get distracted. . . "You wouldn't've chased us, we wouldn't've gotten kidnapped, and we wouldn't be in this situation."

At first I thought he wasn't gonna answer, but then, in a low voice, he said, ". . .I know. And I'm sorry."

I stopped, then looked back over my shoulder at him. "Wait, what?"

And that's when the enemy attacked.

The youngest cat-kid darted toward me, but I was ready. I ran forward and dodged around him, grabbing the back of his shirt and flinging him aside. He went sprawling, yowling like an angry cat.

_"Bitch!"_ someone shrieked, and I barely had time to turn and twist out of the way of the only cat-girl, who'd flown at me in a rage. I slapped my hand against her arm as she passed, and she tripped and collapsed on the deck, writhing from the electric shock.

One of the boys-whose name I didn't know-came at me next, his yellow eyes burning with rage. He managed to tackle me, and tore into my shoulder with his claws before I was able to kick him off. I was on my feet in a second, and. . .

_"Ahh!"_

I whirled, drawn by Con's cry. Joey was there, his claws dripping blood from where he'd just raked them across Con's face.

"Con!" I yelled. He automatically looked at me and I saw Joey had cut him severely under his right eye, and that it was pouring blood.

Joey drew his hand back, this time his claws curled in to form a fist, and he swung hard. His fist slammed into the back of Con's skull, and I saw a surprise flicker faintly through his steely gray eyes before they closed and he collapsed, unconscious.

"C. . ._Con!_" I could barely recognize my own voice it was so twisted by a shriek.

And it wasn't so much that it was Con himself falling, but also that I was now alone against all twelve of these guys. And that frustrated me to all get-out. Because, like, _really?_ _Nobody _on our side was able to take _any _of them out? How pitiful was that?

"I'm getting really, _really_ tired of all this people-trying-to-kill-me crap," I snarled under my breath, backing up into my own space, my hands curling into claws at my sides. An electric tingle danced down my arms, tracing the paths of the ugly black scars that marred my skin, reminders of an encounter with a Swiss Army Knife, a light socket, and some Flyboys in a lab in Salt Lake City, Utah.

That'd been the night I'd met Sy.

I felt the electricity building up in my hands and arms, and the crackling noise told me there were little sparks and bolts of lightning dancing around my fists. The electricity was colored red, sending bloody light flickering over my enemies.

I caught sight of Dylan, his eyes matching the red of my lightning.

And I snapped.

* * *

*best movie ever. and probably my favorite.

see why i had fun writing this? to be honest i'm pretty happy with the way this chapter turned out, especially the fight scenes. though, to be fair, the next one's gonna be fun, too-maybe even more so. stay tuned and you'll see why ;P

question before i go, though: should i write out the london conference and have them escape after, or have them escape before and just skip london altogether? just wondering, 'cuz i could go either way. (that's what she said. ha, ha. . .i've been hanging around my brother and watching _the office_ too much lately. . .)


	17. Chapter 17

some of you are really gonna like this chapter. some of you, however, might not.

disclaimer: don't own maximum ride.

* * *

_**17. whatever it takes**_

I heard a faint noise from beyond the doorway and opened my eyes so I could look toward it.

I was lying on the floor, legs propped up against the wall, hands behind my head. They'd dumped me here (a different cell than before, 'cuz this one had the one-way window dealy) and when I'd woken up what was probably hours later, I'd been too pained/depressed/annoyed to really move that much.

We'd lost the fight. Duh. I had the wounds to prove it: the massive bruise on my head, the claw-marks down my leg (which someone had stitched and wrapped up), and the scraped and shattered knuckles (which were also wrapped up).

I hadn't lasted long against all twelve of 'em. I knew I should've been on the lookout for that kid in the hoodie, 'cuz my dream had showed that he'd kicked me out, but I literally hadn't seen or heard him coming till I turned and his shoe had connected with my head.

I remembered hitting Dylan with some electricity, and the memory of the surprised, pained look on his face made me feel better.

Then the door to the room opened, and I felt even better. Someone was pushed inside-he stumbled in and fell to his knees, the door slamming shut behind him.

"Con!" It was kinda weird that I sounded so happy, but I did. I sat up and turned to face him, smiling. "You're okay!"

He looked at me funny-and winced, touching his face. The cut Joey had given him had been stitched up, but still. I'd seen the blood, and it must've hurt. "Ow."

"Okay, so maybe you're _not_ okay," I amended, watching as he creakily rose and limped over to the cot. He lowered himself down on it and leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes. One, I noticed, the one above the stitches, was bruised. "But at least you're not dead, right?"

"Our escape failed," he said shortly. "I'm not sure which I prefer right now."

"Okaaay," I said slowly, leaning back on my hands, wincing slightly as my shoulder twinged in pain. "Well, it's not that big a deal. We'll just come up with a new one." I frowned. "Though, we might need more than just Frankie's help if we wanna get out of here."

"We need Dylan is what we need," Con muttered, and I flinched. "What? It's true. Even _we_ sometimes asked his help when we had to go on a sketchy mission."

"Yeah, so he's smart," I said irritably, rolling my eyes as I lay back down on the floor. I kicked my legs up onto the wall and tossed a glare at Con. "But don't call him Dylan when you really mean Sy."

"Well, whatever," he said. "We need him back on our side." He let out a breath, then winced and touched a hand to his ribs. "Not like it matters, though. He's totally red."

"That mean he's completely lost?" I asked, turning my eyes to stare at the ceiling. It was weird, but I wasn't freaking out over the fact that we were still on this stupid, idiotic floating prison. I'd been totally frustrated and pissed at myself before, but now the anger had just simmered down into a kind-of resigned annoyance.

"It's useless," Con said bitterly. I sighed and closed my eyes so I wouldn't do something stupid or weak. Like cry. "They're basically unreachable once they're like this. Only something way extreme can snap them out of it, and even then it has to be early. Lucky for us he only just started, but. . ."

_Extreme._

My eyes snapped open and my breath caught in my throat. In the corner of my eye I saw Con stop and look over at me.

I ran through the sudden lightbulb idea in my head once more, debating. I'd probably hate myself later for doing it. _Con_ would probably hate me later for doing it. (But then again, he already hates me.) I had only a slight doubt that it wouldn't work-I mean, it seemed to shake him last time, when I was barely doing anything. Maybe this would be enough to get through to him. Though we haven't really done much, besides him I don't really have anybody else. I don't think he has anyone besides me, either. So it'd work. Yeah. It _had_ to work.

But if anybody from either of our flocks found out, it'd cause major. . .controversy.

With possible teasing.

"Spark?" Con said warily.

I shook my head, clearing it of all random mental babble, deciding that the needs of the many outweighed the pride of the one (or two), and, very slowly and casually, I said, "Tell me something, Constantine. Just what exactly is your definition of _extreme?_"

I saw him frown. "You used to get that look when you were little."

I turned my head and smirked at him, raising my eyebrow daringly. Con rolled his eyes and groaned, but it was a groan of defeat-I'd gotten him.

"I _hate_ that look!"

* * *

He really had no idea why he even hung out in here. It was just. . .whenever he had free time, he found his feet carrying him to her viewing room. He assumed it was just another of Poseidon's futile attempts to regain contr-

_. . .What?_

Dylan closed his eyes, counted to five, and looked at the window again.

He hadn't imagined it.

Constantine had pushed Spark against the wall, all right-but not violently. Gently, almost. Spark was even smiling. She said something to him, and then he. . .she. . .they _kissed_. And _kept_ kissing. _On purpose._

His vision began to shake, as if the entire world was a cell phone set on vibrate. Panicking, Dylan shut his eyes and turned away-but it wasn't enough. He could still see it in his mind's eye.

Confused, angry jealousy raged through him like a tsunami over the dam that blocked his alter's mind from resurfacing. Dylan hunched over, one hand on his head and the other clutching the edge of the window ledge as he fought for control.

But he couldn't hold him back.

With what felt like a clean snap of a bone, Dylan and Poseidon switched mindsets.

* * *

The first thing he was aware of was that he was right up in Con's face, pinning the bird-kid's arms to the wall, his emotions of rage flowing intensely high.

Con smirked at him, as if he didn't really care Sy had him up against a wall. "Welcome back."

_. . .What. . .?_ Sy blinked, taken aback. Then someone touched his shoulder and he looked back.

Spark.

* * *

Indeed, blue is a far better color than red.

I smiled at Sy, hoping that the worried confusion in his eyes (his _blue_ eyes, of course) would disappear. "I think you can let him go now," I told him. "He won't be kissing _me_ again anytime soon."

". . .Uh. . ." Sy looked back to Con, who raised an eyebrow at him. Warily Sy released him and stepped back.

Con straightened his shirt irritably, saying to me, "Oh, _please_, like I'd make myself do _that _again."

"Ha!" I laughed once humorlessly and slid my hand from Sy's shoulder, down his arm and into his hand, twining my fingers with his. His hand reflexively tightened, and I returned the pressure reassuringly. "Like I'd _let_ you!"

"Who was the one who came up with it?" Con shot back tauntingly.

Sy shook his head and spoke up before I could reply. "Okay, can someone tell me what's going on here?" he asked, looking from Con to me and back again. "I'm kinda. . .okay, no, I'm _really_ confused right now."

"It's okay," I said softly. I squeezed his hand again and he looked down at me, a slight frown on his face. "Dylan took over." Realization took over from confusion, coupled with irritation. "I don't know how, or when, but he did. And we just brought you back," I added, nodding back at Con, who'd leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms.

"But. . ." Sy shook his head again, as if trying to rid it of something. "But you two were. . ."

"Her idea, dude," Con said quickly, holding up his hands in defense. "Swear."

"Yes, okay, it was my idea," I said, rolling my eyes. "But when Dylan was in questioning us, he seemed to lose it a little whenever I touched Con. So when Con said only something way extreme would be able to get through to you I thought, hey, let's step it up a notch. That's it. I swear, it didn't mean anything. I would _never_ willingly. . .do _that_ with _him_." I shuddered for effect and Sy's mouth quirked up in a smile. But then it vanished.

"I. . ." He stopped, putting a hand to his head, like he was remembering something painful. "I remember you almost died. And I begged him-Dylan-to save you."

". . .Oh." I frowned, my side tingling from the old (or at least that's what it seemed like) wound. "Yeah. That was the retard's fault over there," I said, jerking a thumb over to indicate that it was Con I was calling a retard. "He cheated when we were fighting. But it's irrelevant, because I'm fine now. And you're back in control."

"Yeah. I guess I am." He took a deep, steadying breath before asking once again, "What's going on here? Where are we?"

"The _Princess Andromeda,_" Con said, sounding irritated. "Long story short, they want us in London, we don't wanna go, we tried to escape, we failed, and now we have you to help us escape again. For real this time. Ideas?"

". . .That's it?" Sy finally said, blinking. "You just have to get out?"

"Whaddaya mean that's it?" Con exclaimed, but I held up a hand to quiet him.

"We didn't have so much luck last time," I told Sy. "Plus-" (And I just realized this as I said it) "-we had no idea where we were. Do you know if we're at all close to land?"

Sy paused, his eyes glazing momentarily. "We're near England," he said, his voice sounding weird. "We should get there tomorrow morning. The conference is that afternoon."

He trailed off, staring into space, and I snapped my fingers in front of his face. "Hey! Don't go all spacey on me. Last time you did that, Dylan attacked me."

He blinked. "Sorry. I was just trying to think through to him and see if I can remember anything useful."

"I'm gonna pretend like that made more sense than it did," I said slowly. He smiled apologetically and shrugged.

"What d'you want me to do? I'm in uncharted waters here."

I gave him a wry look. "Funny."

"You know what I mean," he said, rolling his eyes. "I'm the only one who's been having issues like this. The others just go red and stay that way, with the exception of one or two extreme cases."

"If you're talking about Wave and Kyla, they've both gone completely red," Con chimed in offhandedly. Sy and I both looked at him, but he was apparently busy picking at his fingernails. "Jaxx, too, with Shark showing the beginning signs. Or at least that's what I heard before we left."

"Well that sucks," Sy mumbled.

"What? Who are you guys talking about?" I asked, looking from one to the other.

"Other fish hybrids," Sy answered. He ran a nervous hand through his hair. "I thought they'd all be on my side, if I asked."

"Your side for what?"

"For throwing the London conference," Con said.

"Throwing the. . .?" I stopped and shook my head. "Why am I just now hearing about this? When was it decided that we were even _going_ to that stupid thing?"

"It was an idea Max floated before Frankie laid out the escape plan," Con said vaguely, pushing himself away from the wall. "If we got enough people to throw the tests they want us to do, the investors won't be impressed and Itex will lose funding. That way they can't take over and technically the world will be saved."

"That's not such a bad idea," I said slowly, thinking it over. I felt myself smile as I imagined what kind of havoc we could wreak upon dear old London. "Joey and Frankie would be in, I bet."

"Thing is, I don't think there are enough of _my_ kind who would be willing to screw Itex over," Sy said, gesturing to himself to indicate the fish hybrids. "I know Kyla and Wave would've, but now that they're red they're probably different. Same with Jaxx. I could probably get Janey, and the twins, too, if I asked. . ."

"Don't be so sure about _them_," Con said, frowning. "They weren't exactly very helpful with our escape. And neither were those cat guys."

"Things are different now," I said firmly. "It's not just about helping us escape momentarily. It's about making sure Itex can't keep doing whatever the hell it is they're doing."

"So. . .we're _not_ going to escape now?" Sy asked slowly.

"No," I said. "We're gonna wait, agree to do the London thing, fail it. . ."

"And _then_ escape," Sy finished. "Okay."

"Assuming none of us die in the process of the failing the conference," Con grumbled. "Who died and made you leader?"

Deciding to ignore Con, I asked Sy, "Where's the flock?"

"I dunno. Let me think." He paused, and like before, his eyes seemed to slide out of focus. I knew he was just trying to remember stuff from when Dylan was in control, but it still made me edgy. "Um. . .they've been. . .paired off, like you guys. So it's harder to round everyone else in case you tried to escape again." He shook his head and looked at me. "I know where they are. Should I just go around and tell them all what we're doing, then?"

I hesitated. "No. It'd be better if it came from one of us," I said, including Con in my _us_. "You're not really very popular among the bird kids right now."

"Joy," Con said sarcastically. "We get to run around in the air ducts again."

"We don't have to go through the air ducts," I said, rolling my eyes. "Sy can take us."

"We'll get caught."

"Well, if anybody sees us and asks what's going on, I'll just say I'm taking you guys to testing or something," Sy said reasonably. "Or. . ." He reached into his pocket and dug out a small lock-picking kit. "I could be taking you to get new security cuffs, because somehow your original ones fell off."

I smiled and held out my wrist. "This is why I love you," I said. Sy easily unlocked my cuff and it dropped to the floor with a satisfying clatter.

Sy handed the pick off to Con so he could unlock his own handcuff when he blinked. "Oh. That reminds me."

I turned to him and tried to say "What?" but didn't get past "Wha-" before he kissed me lightly on the lips. Completely taken by surprise, I went still.

For some reason, I was very aware that Con was there. Two feet away. Watching.

_This is probably the most times I've been kissed in a day,_ I thought absently. I mean, after I'd told Con my plan, he'd objected. Strongly. The argument that had then ensued was probably the only time I would ever in my life try to convince an unwilling boy that kissing me would be the only way out of a horrible situation. With luck, it would also be the only time I would ever _need_ to do that, too.

He'd eventually agreed to the plan, but then we faced a new problem: the problem of whether or not Dylan would ever get around to "visiting" again. It was decided that we'd just try it whenever we heard the door. Thus, there had been several false alarms-which I had _not_ been thrilled about, by the way. But you know what they say. Fifth time's a charm.

Hm. . .I probably shouldn't've been thinking about Con while Sy was kissing me. . .that was just weird. . .

As my whirling train of thought spiraled around my brain, Sy pulled back and whispered something softly.

"I love you."

I blinked, the whirling train of thought derailing as I realized what he'd just said. "Uh. . .wait, what?"

"And puke," Con said, sounding very impatient and irritated. "All right, that was sweet, it really was, but we kind of have other issues that need dealing with, here, so. . ."

Sy smiled at me, obviously ignoring the fact that Con had just spoken. "I'll probably have to do that again later, 'cuz not everybody was here to see."

I just stared at him incomprehensibly. I just felt so very, very confused. "Ah. . .what?"

"Nudge zapped me," he explained, holding up his hand. He glanced at his palm and frowned. "But it's gone now. Anyway, I looked at it early and had to do the dare. Thought I might as well do it now, before I forgot."

". . .Ohhh," I said, finally understanding. So it'd been a _dare_. That just made me feel so much better. . .I think. I shook my head a little. "You could've told me that before you did it."

"Aw, but then I would've missed the look on your face," Sy replied, winking. I slowly smiled.

"You jerk," I said, aiming a kick at him. He laughed and dodged, but wasn't quick enough to evade the punch I directed at his arm.

Con groaned loudly and we both looked at him. Irritably, he said, "Not that I'm not over the _moon _about the fact that you guys are able to bounce back so quickly after all that's happened, but we _do _have things to do now. So can we do them, please? Before I lose my mind from being stuck in this stupid goddamn room again?"

"This isn't the same one as last time, though," I informed him. I swept my arm around the room. "Our shoes aren't here. And there's a window."

"Hey, why _aren't_ you wearing shoes?" Sy asked, looking down at my socked feet. He glanced at Con's feet as well. "And you aren't either."

I smirked at Con and he frowned. "Spark. . ."

"I don't really remember a lot, but there were jello shots and lots of weed involved," I said quickly, grinning. Sy laughed once, then tried to disguise it as a cough. He failed.

"Stop _telling_ people weird stuff like that!" Con yelled, smacking my arm quite violently as he stalked past me in a heading for the door.

"_Ow!_ That was. . .unnecessary!" I said, running up kicking his shin. He swore and swung at me, but I darted back and ducked behind Sy.

"Wow," Sy said. "You guys are worse than the twins."

"We are not!" Con and I protested in unison.

He bit his lip to keep from smiling. "Uh-_huh_. Right. Well, either way, Con was right, and we do have stuff to do, so let's go. . .get it done." He took my hand and started for the door, gently pulling me along. I looked back over my shoulder to stick my tongue out at Con. He flipped me off as a reply.

Ah, the joys of frenemy-ship.

* * *

majority ruled, people. they kissed. even though it wasn't really for real, heh-heh ;)


	18. Chapter 18

sorry. . .i guess it's been longer than i thought since i last updated. . .

disclaimer: don't own maximum ride.

* * *

_**18. price to pay**_

"Again."

"I'm sorry?"

"Play it _again_."

"Oh. Yes, Director."

The security video from the ship the night before rewound, then began to play again. Director Lilith Dicus leaned in closer so she could once again study a solitary figure.

Spark.

Constantine had just fallen, taken out by the eldest of the cat hybrids. Spark was close to losing it-bolts of electric light flickered erratically around her arms and hands. Absently Dicus wondered if it was colored to match her fury. (The security video was in black and white, so she couldn't exactly tell.)

Suddenly, Spark lurched into motion. She swung her arms around to clap her hands together: a ring of lightning appeared around her and shot outwards. A few of the other hybrids were able to duck or leap over it, but most got caught up in the attack and were thrown across the deck, the rails around the ship the only thing keeping them from falling overboard.

Aqua-one of the few that had avoided the attack-grabbed up a pipe and ran at Spark. The avian simply flicked a hand, as if unconcerned. A small jolt of electricity flew from Spark's fingers and to the pipe, which Aqua hurriedly dropped.

Spark then whirled and tossed another handful of lightning at the twelve-year-old cat hybrid that was trying to come at her from behind. The boy didn't dodge in time and got hit right in the stomach. He fell, twitching and yelling (presumably-the security video was muted), to the deck.

The Director had watched this five-minute-long video clip a dozen times already, but she just couldn't get over it. Even as weakened as she was, Spark had shown a power far beyond anything they'd even guessed at when they'd still had her at the Factory.

Pity that she'd never agree to the conference. With Spark, Itex would regain funding for sure.

Dicus' eyes flicked to the corner of the screen, where she saw Dylan get up. Then he was gone, suddenly reappearing behind Spark. He recklessly grabbed one of her arms, but quickly let go as Spark turned to face him and scowled.

"Three, two. . ." Dicus murmured.

Spark raised her hands and shoved Dylan in the chest, hard. Almost the entire screen went white from the flash, and then it went black, for the sheer amount of electric discharge had shorted out all the security cameras on the ship.

Dicus leaned back in her chair, letting out a deep breath. She'd been told one of the fish hybrids had managed to knock Spark out, and that the entire avian group was back under lock and key, but still, deep down, the Director was a little uneasy. Perhaps she'd underestimated Spark, and all her abilities.

If _only_ she would compete for them in London. . .

* * *

"You want us to _do what they say?_"

I ignored Con's irritated sigh, and had to struggle to not let one out myself. We'd already been through this with Max and Gazzy, and Fang and Avi, and Nudge and Swift, and Shadow and Angel. Blaze and Iggy were last on the list before Sy had to take us back to our cell.

"Only a little bit," I said to Blaze, who looked thunderstruck.

"What the hell's _that_ supposed to mean?" she demanded.

"That we do what they say only because it'll help us beat them," I replied a little impatiently.

"I'm confused," Iggy began.

Con rolled his eyes, resting his head back against the door he was leaning on. "Of course you are."

"Shut up," I snapped at him. Then I turned back to Iggy. "Look, Max had this idea that if we purposely throw the conference thing they want us to compete in, then investors won't be impressed with Itex's work and pull out. Itex will lose all the money they've been using to create hybrids like us and they'll have to shut down. They'll be done, and we'll never have to deal with them ever again."

"No." Blaze shook her head. "It's too risky. They'll figure it out and kill us anyway. I vote we go back to the old plan and just bust the hell outta here as soon as we can."

"I vote for a change of roommate," Iggy said, raising his hand. "I'll go along with the plan as long as I don't have to stay here with Blaze anymore."

"Yeah? Well, you're no ray of sunshine either!" Blaze snapped fiercely, flames flickering to life over her fingers.

"Hey!" Con began, glaring at Blaze, but before he could get on with reprimanding her I interrupted, crying, "Blazer, stop it!"

The room was dead silent as everybody stared at me. I felt my collar get hot and said defensively, "What?"

"You. . .but. . .nobody's called me that since you ran away," Blaze said haltingly, staring at me in shock. I frowned at her and she shook her head. "Don't. . .don't call me that. It's just too weird."

"I'll do whatever the hell I want if you try to go all firebender on Iggy," I told her fiercely. "So stop it, unless you want _me_ to go all _lightning_bender on _you!_"

Blaze bristled, her eyes flickering silver. "You are _not-_"

"I don't care about what I'm _not_," I spat, whirling around and turning my back to her. Con hastily stepped away from the door and I stormed out, calling back, "What I _am_ is leaving!"

I practically slammed the door behind me and stalked back and forth a few times, trying to get my frustration under control. Sy-who had been watching the proceedings through the one-way window of the viewing room-wisely waited until I'd calmed down some before speaking.

"I stand corrected," Sy said, and I glared over at him. "You and _Blaze_ are worse than the twins."

"Shut up," I growled, pacing over to stand beside him at the window so I could watch the scene still going on inside the room.

"Sorry," he mumbled. I ignored him, glaring into the room.

"Con, you can't be serious about this plan," Blaze was saying, looking intently at Con. One of his eyebrows went up. "They'll never believe that we just all of a sudden want to work for them again, you know that!"

"What I know," Con said carefully, "is that they don't think we can surprise them anymore. But they're not going to expect this. We're going with this plan, Blaze." I smirked at the furious, disbelieving look on her face. "I don't care if you like it or not, because you've already been outvoted."

"Um, when exactly is this all gonna go down?" Iggy asked, turning his head toward Con.

"We should be getting there tomorrow," he told him, turning toward the door. "Kick up a fuss if you hear we've given in, but shut up when we tell you to. Conference is day after tomorrow and we should be out of here by then."

He left them then, coming out into the viewing room and closing the door lightly behind him. He opened his mouth to say something, but I held up a hand.

"Wait for iiiiiiit. . ." I said.

"UUHHH!" Blaze cried out in frustration and whirled, throwing a large ball of flame at the back wall. "Those two are really starting to piss me off!"

"Ahh." I smiled and straightened up. "Music to my ears."

"Keep doing stuff like that and she will really try to kill you," Con warned me as Sy chuckled. "I give you maybe two more sarcastic remarks before she snaps."

"Well, like lots of other people, she's already tried killing me before," I said, shrugging and turning around to face him. "And nobody's succeeded yet."

"We should probably get you guys back now," Sy said, glancing at his watch. Almost as if he didn't have to think about it he took my hand and started leading the way.

"Yeah, nobody's killed you _yet_," Con said to me, catching up as we entered the hallway. I looked over at him and saw he was smirking. "There's still plenty of time left for somebody to do you in."

"Not if I've got my fish boy with me," I replied, nodding my head at Sy. He glanced down at me and half-smiled, shifting his hand to lace his fingers through mine. "He saved me when you stabbed me. Beat that."

"Oh, and about that," Sy said lightly, cutting off Con's retort. He looked at the bird-kid, blue eyes suddenly hard and dark, and said with a much cooler tone, "Don't try it again. Or I'll have to do something about it."

(It was then that I realized that when Sy got all protective and badass like he just did, it just made him that much hotter.)

(. . .And I never thought I'd hear myself say something as boy-focused as that.)

"Don't worry," Con said nonchalantly, raising his hand to inspect his fingernails. "Next time I'll make sure she's actually dead."

"Whoa!" Now, even for a genetically modified kid, Sy's pretty dang fast, so I really had to move to stop him from jumping Con. Who, being the cocky jackass that he is, just laughed as I pushed Sy back. I sent him a glare over my shoulder, and even though he stopped laughing he maintained that stupid smirk.

"I don't care if he's on our side, he says something like that again and I'll-" Sy began furiously, glaring at Con.

"Do nothing," I finished. "Now look. As much as I adore you and hate Con, I can't have you trying to kill him."

Sy just kept glaring over my head, so I shoved him again and snapped, "Hey! Look at me when I'm talking to you!"

Reluctantly he turned his eyes to me. I stared him hard in the eye and told him, "Maybe sometime later, when we're all out of this place, you can kick his ass like I know you want to. But _later_. Not now. Okay?"

Con scoffed behind me. "Please. Like he'd even be able to touch me."

That one got even _me_ riled. I whirled and sent Con a dirty look. "You can't even beat _me_ up without cheating, so shut the hell up!"

"I don't have to cheat to beat you u-" he began, but then an echo from another hall made us all stop.

Footsteps. Lots of them, and they sounded precise and kinda metallicy, like robots. I hadn't seen any Flyboys in a while, so it was probably those M-Geeks (as Max had so lamely named them). I mean, really. Lily-livered cankerblossoms just has such a better ring to it. Except, they probably didn't have livers.

Instinctively I looked at Sy, my face arranged in a nervous _what now?_ expression. Other people might've looked just as deer-in-the-headlights as I probably did, but that just wasn't Sy. He could always think of something, even at a moment's notice.

He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a pocketknife, the blade of which he flicked out. Then he grabbed me and pulled me close, my back to his chest, wrapping one arm around me and bringing the knife to my neck just as a whole platoon of M-Geeks rounded the corner down the hall.

Con instantly caught on and held up his hands. "You hurt her and the Director will get pissed," he said, as if trying to talk Sy down. "She wants us alive."

Down the hall, the M-Geeks seemed to converse with each other for a second, then started coming our way.

"Yeaaah. Well, _alive_ has such a loose definition, doesn't it?" Sy replied, slightly taunting. His arm tightened and I inhaled sharply, as if he'd pressed the knife closer to my neck. Con twitched, as if to step forward, but Sy and I stepped back.

"Con, it's not worth it," I said. "Just ru-ow!" I broke off with an exclamation, pretending like Sy had cut me. I saw him bite his lip, hiding a smirk as the M-Geeks' pace quickened. I cried out again and they started running.

"She is not to be harmed," one said, its recorded voice raised as if to emphasize its statement. I mean, sure, a real human would've yelled and sounded worried or something, but ya just can't beat a robot that sounds just as threatening as a telephone operator.

"Whatever," Sy said coldly, dropping his knife and pushing me gently away. I made a show of stumbling, as if he'd shoved me. Con was at my side in a second, as if he were really concerned. The M-Geeks swarmed around us, two coming up on either side to take our arms and detain us.

"Get them back to their cell," Sy ordered, dropping his pocketknife back into his pocket and turning away. Then, sounding irritated, he called back, "And freaking tell whoever's supposed to be watching cameras had better do a better f*cking job next time!"

"Jerk!" I yelled after him, and the M-Geeks mobilized to haul us away.

Con smirked at me as his robot guards led him back to our cell ahead of me. I shrugged modestly and he rolled his eyes. So I'm good at acting, too. What can I say? My skills are incredible and infinite in their scope.

* * *

(Hey, to all you Hollywood directors out there reading this, you're in luck! Us hybrids are in the mood to start our careers in showbiz. So, if you liked what you just saw, just contact us toll-free at 1-866-GOT-WING. That's right, 1-866-468-9464*, or just text the word "mutant" to the same number, and we'll get back to you as soon as we're off this Itex gig. Remember, this is a 1-866 number, _not_ a 1-800 number, and yes, all standard text-messaging rates do apply.)

* * *

Con wondered absently how long it had taken for somebody to realize he and Spark had disappeared from their cell. Probably not very long, if they'd been able to go around and explain the plan to everybody before getting caught. It didn't seem like it had caused much of a problem, if only the M-Geeks had come looking and nobody had tried to call and alert Dylan of the situation.

"Ya mind if I sing?" Spark suddenly asked her two guards as they led her along the hall behind Con. "It's just, Con doesn't let me, y'know? And I've had this song stuck in my head and the only way I can get it out is to sing it."

Con rolled his eyes, stifling a groan. He knew it was just an annoyance tactic, but come on. These were _robots_. You cannot annoy robots, as they do not understand the concept of emotions such as irritation.

Lucky bastards.

"Oh, God, don't let her," he called back loudly. "Her singing's worse than mine."

"I take offense to that. I'm an _awesome_ singer. Just listen." Spark cleared her throat and Con groaned.

_"Ohhh, once u-pon a mid-night dearie I woke with somethin' in my he-ead! I couldn't es-cape the mem-o-ryyy of a phone call and of, what you sa-aid! Like a game show contestant with a parting gift, I could not be-lieve my eyes! When I saw through the voice of a trus-ted friend who needs to humor me and, tell me lies! Yeah hu-mor me and tell me lies!"_

"Oh, good Lord, please shut her up!" Con said as Spark drew a breath.

_"And I'll lie too and say I don't mi-ind! And as we seek so shall we find! And when you're feeling open I'll still be here, but not without a certain de-gree of fear, of what will be, with you and me, I still can see things hope-ful-ly but yoooooouuu! Why you wanna give me a run-a-round! Is it a suure-fire way to speed things up! When all it does is slooooo-ooow me down!"_

"I'm _begging_ you! Make her be quiet!"

_"And shake me, and my con-fi-dence, about a great, many things! But I've been there I can seee it cower like a nervous magician waiting in the wings! Of a bad play where the he-roes are ri-ight! And nobody thinks or expects too much, and Hollywood's callin' for the mo-vie rights singing hey babe, let's, keep in touch! Hey ba-by let's, keep in touch!"_

A door suddenly opened, and the M-Geeks halted. Con glanced around and realized they'd been taken back to their holding cell.

A whitecoat was standing in the open doorway. He must have already heard of them, because he said, "I thought I heard singing. This must be the infamous Spark."

Spark paused, eyes flickering over to Con. He glared at her, but she just smirked.

_"Tra la la bomba dear, this is the pilot speaking and I've, got some news for yo-ou! It seems my ship still stands no matter what you drop and there ain't a whole lot that you can do-ooo!"_

Con let out an irritable sigh. "If you're going to annoy the hell out of everyone by doing that, the least you could do is sing it right. You just skipped half a verse."

"Wait, you know that song?" Spark said, sounding surprised. "What'd I skip?"

"You know. _But I want more than a touch I want you to reach me, and show me all the things no one else can see_?" he quoted, just saying the lyrics rather than singing them. Please. Like he'd do _that_ in public.

Spark's face was puzzled. "Huh. . ."

" 'So what ya feel becomes mine as well, and soon if we're lucky we'd be unable to tell what's yours and mine, the fishing's fine, and it doesn't have to rhyme so don't you feed me a line but-' " He stopped abruptly as he realized he'd almost been about to do. He shook his head and cleared his throat. "But, um, you skipped that part, and the, uh, chorus."

She blinked and smirked. "Wait a minute. Were you just about to-"

"No," he said, a little too quickly.

"I think you were-errr," she said, drawing out the word tauntingly.

"No!" Con snapped.

"I heard you," Spark said, grinning now. "You were talking with a beat and right at the end there you almost started singing it!"

"No, _I didn't!_" he said loudly.

She was way too happy to be legal. "Oh, come on, dude, you were right there! Just keep going, let's belt it out! _Oh sure the banner may be torn and the wind's gotten colder, perhaps I've grown a little cynical. . ._"

"Shut _up!_" he practically yelled.

"Perhaps he's right, Spark," the whitecoat said, drawing their attention again. Con studied him, but he didn't recognize him beyond the vague suspicion that he was one of the higher-ups, one of the guys who worked directly with the Director. The man smiled, but it was false and creepy. "This meeting will go much more smoothly if I'm able to speak without having to talk over your singing."

"Smoothly, but less funly," Spark told him with total sincerity.

"What meeting?" Con asked warily, ignoring Spark with some effort.

"Please, come in," the man said, stepping back and holding out his arm. The M-Geeks became animated again and marched into the room, dragging Con and Spark along with them. The whitecoat quickly went ahead of them into their cell; two of the M-Geeks dropped back to guard the door.

"Ooh, you rennovated," Spark said sarcastically as her remaining robotic guard followed Con's into their cell. He, too, saw the table and chairs that had been added in their absence.

"Please, sit," the whitecoat said, gesturing to two chairs on the far end of the table. He himself sat down in the one nearest the door, laying his laptop on the tabletop.

Con glanced back at Spark, who shrugged. Not like they had much choice.

The M-Geeks forced them to walk around the table, then pushed them down into the chairs. They then took up posts on either side of the table and went stock-still. . .though it was obvious that they could spring back into action at a moment's notice. Escape wasn't a very intelligent option.

"So." Spark sat up all straight and prim in her chair and crossed her legs, folding her hands on her knee. "To what do we owe this visit to our humble abode?"

A smirk flitted over the whitecoat's mouth, as if he were amused by Spark's actions. "In about twelve hours, this ship will pull into London," he began.

"Ah, London," Spark said immediately, sighing wistfully. "The City of Light! Oh, to whisk over the Seine at twilight. . .to watch the Eiffel Tower light up for the new year. . .to listen to the bells of Notre Dame echoing throughout the streets. . ."

"That is _so not London_," Con said incredulously. Spark stopped talking and frowned.

"Really?" she said. "Then what am I thinking of?"

"Paris."

"Ah, Paris. . ." Spark said after a short pause, sighing wistfully again. Con rolled his eyes and groaned softly, trying his best to resist the urge to hit her.

"Erm. . ." The whitecoat seemed at a loss for words, distracted by what had just happened.

"Do you see what you've stuck me with?" Con asked, gesturing at Spark, who was still dreamily rattling off the wonders of France. "I'm surprised I haven't gone insane by now!"

"Sanity is a silly thing," Spark commented. Then she smiled. "That's why I got rid of mine at a young age."

The whitecoat blinked. ". . .Right," he said slowly. He shook his head as if to clear it, then continued. "Anyway, as I said, tomorrow we will get to London, and, as you know, Itex will be holding a large conference with its investors the day after."

"You're still calling it a conference?" Spark asked curiously, and by the way the whitecoat let out an even breath Con could tell that he was irritated. _Join the club,_ he thought. "Sure it's not more like an all-or-nothing gamble for continued funding? 'Cuz that's what it sounds like."

"Though it may be true that some of our investors may need persuasion to remain with Itex, the title of the meeting is irrelevant," the scientist said tightly. ."What matters is that you, Spark, and you, Constantine, convince your flock that it would benefit you all if you simply cooperated with our wishes."

_Since when is it _our_ flock?_ he thought, but all he said was, "Okay."

The whitecoat looked at him blankly, and even Spark glanced at him in surprise. "Really?" he said.

"Sure," Con replied casually, shrugging before leaning back in his chair. "_You'll_ have to convince _us_ first, though, and we're pretty stubborn kids, so I don't know what to tell ya."

"Try bribery," Spark advised, having caught on. "You know diamonds are a girl's best friend, right?"

"We'll do whatever it takes to earn your trust and cooperation," the scientist said, almost as if he meant it.

"Diamonds," Spark repeated. "They're all sparkly and stuff."

"But easy to lose," Con pointed out. "Get a hole in your pocket and they'll all just fall out. And most wallets don't have a special diamond compartment."

"True," she acknowledged, then pretended to think. "Hmm. Um, how about I get five mil in cash, and you guys set me up with a special jet to take me home? And then, like, leave me alone for the rest of my life so I can live happily ever after."

The man chuckled in a way Con didn't like. "Well, Spark, there's a little hitch to that."

She stopped, realizing something was off. ". . .What d'you mean?" she asked slowly.

With a cold smile, the whitecoat opened his laptop and turned it so Con and Spark could see the screen. A paused video clip popped up, and with the tap of a key on the keyboard it began to play.

It was a Fox News broadcast, featuring a serious-looking blond woman with cold green eyes. A picture of Spark-an old school photo, it looked like-appeared in the upper right corner of the screen. Beside him, Con heard Spark inhale sharply.

_"In other news, Colorado Springs Police has announced that the investigation regarding Nicole Ackerly, a fifteen-year-old resident of Monument, has come to a conclusion," _the newswoman said. _"Unfortunately, last night she was discovered dead, in a ditch, four miles from her home."_

Con glanced at Spark and saw she'd gone rigid-so frozen it was like she was a statue.

_"Ackerly, who had been missing for over a month, was supposedly staying with family before she went missing in Chicago, Illinois. We take you now to Charlie Knight, who is with a Colorado Springs detective. Charlie?"_

The clip switched over to a live interview outside some building. A reporter's voice said, _"Thank you, Steph. Now, Detective, how did the disappearance of Nicole Ackerly come to your attention?"_

A man (the subtitle revealing his name was Detective John Munch), replied with: _"Well, a daughter of one of our officers told her father that the girl didn't return with her family from vacation, and that she was worried, so we sent a couple of guys over to the house. They were told that she'd stayed back with some relatives for personal reasons."_

_"When exactly did you know something was up?"_ the reporter asked.

_"After the school year started, and Nicole was still gone, less and less people were buying that story. Apparently rumors were flying around her school, and after a few calls to the relatives she was supposedly staying with, we figured out that Nicole had actually run away the day _before_ the rest of her family."_

_"Is that so. What happened after you questioned the family again?"_

_"They admitted that they hadn't heard from her, and so an official investigation was conducted. We questioned everyone who saw her last, on July thirtieth, but they all claimed she'd gone home with her parents. We assume that she had a fight with her parents, ran to some old friends, but decided to catch a plane home on her own after tensions cooled off."_

_"Now that her body's been found, what do you plan to do?"_

_"Another investigation will be conducted, and-"_

The whitecoat quietly closed the laptop then, cutting off the rest of the interview.

"But. . .I'm not," Spark said mechanically. "How'd you. . .why. . .but I'm _not. . ._"

"So what'd you do?" Con asked, drowning out Spark's confused sputters and glaring at the whitecoat. "Make an all-human clone of her? Sent it back in her place, offed it, and then just let everybody think she was dead?"

"Your powers of deduction are truly amazing, Constantine," the man replied, smirking. He thought he had them now-and truthfully, Con wasn't exactly sure that Spark wasn't just a little rattled.

"But I'm _not_ dead," Spark repeated, still sounding sadly confused. "Why would you make it so the world thinks I'm dead? My friends, my family?"

"That's the price you pay, Spark, for running around playing a pain in Itex's ass," the whitecoat said bluntly. He lowered his voice to a taunting whisper. "Ya never should've left us, kid."

"Her parents knew she had wings," Con pointed out. He hadn't liked this guy to begin with, and now he was liking him less and less. "They're not gonna buy the dead Spark thing when the body doesn't have wings."

"But it's not like they'll be able to tell the authorities that," the scientist countered; his tone made Con's fists clench in anger. "They'll just have to play along. In other words, it seems as if Nicole Ackerly really is dead." The man smiled at Spark. "You don't have a home to go back to anymore, Spark. So either you try to run away again and just delay an early death. . .or you stay, here, with Itex, and remain alive for as long as you want."

Con sensed Spark glance at him, but he refused to look back. This was it-their chance to accept the offer to participate in the London conference. And it was perfect, too: the scientist couldn't've given them a better opportunity.

Con quietly nudged her with his foot under the table.

Showtime.

He continued to glare at the whitecoat, while Spark, on the other hand, remained quiet. In the one-way window's reflection he could see Spark sort of hunch her shoulders, and staring absently at the tabletop in front of her. She looked small and young and vulnerable.

"I. . ." Spark stopped, and let out a short breath. "I'm tired of running,"she whispered, her voice pitifully defeated.

Con blinked, then looked over at her, pretending to be appalled. "Spark. . ."

"No," she interrupted. "I'm tired of it, Con."

"Don't. . .don't do this," he said warningly.

"I'm _tired_ of it, all right?" she said loudly, glaring at him. Desperation entered her tone as she went on. "I'm tired of all the running and all the, the living without knowing if I'll wake up tomorrow, and. . .I'm tired of being _afraid_." She took a long, shuddering breath. "I don't want to die, Con. And if this. . .if this is the only way to keep living, then. . ." Spark trailed off, shaking her head before just staring at her hands, which were twisted together in her lap.

He had to hand it to her. For a second she was almost convincing.

With a long-suffering groan and a curse, Con propped his elbows on the table and put his head in his hands.

"Con?" the whitecoat asked, sounding amused. He had to fight to not smirk-the idiot thought he'd won them over. "You know you don't have anywhere else to go. Unlike Spark, you've never _had_ a family other than us."

"Fine!" Con snapped explosively. Acting annoyed, he stared down at the table, clasping his hands behind his head. "Just. . .whatever."

"I see." The whitecoat gathered up the laptop and stood. The smugness in his voice was thick enough to cut with a knife. "Then I will see you both tomorrow for the conference. I shall alert the Director to your decision. And, ah, about your friends. . .?"

Neither of them answered.

"I'll just tell them you've agreed on their behalf," the scientist said smoothly. "All right? Until tomorrow, then. I'll leave you to your devices."

Both Con and Spark were silent as he left the room, the M-Geeks following obediently behind. After a long wait to be sure nobody was left out there watching, Con sat up and Spark straightened up, leaning back in her chair and looking over at him.

"Well?"

"Nice acting," he said after a pause.

* * *

(So again, that number is 1-866-468-9464, or 1-866-GOT-WING. We are available for movies, TV, documentaries, and special appearances on prime-time talk shows. Ask for me, Spark, because Max will probably just laugh and hang up on you.)

(Also, Total and I are willing to do Broadway.)

(Call us.)

* * *

She smirked at him. "Thanks." She was quiet for a minute, but then (as he should've guessed) began to ask, "If you had been by _yourself, _would you have-"

"No," he interrupted flatly.

Spark frowned, but it looked like she was also trying not to smile. "You don't even know what I was going to ask."

"Yes I do, and no I would not have started singing," Con said with annoyance.

"Oh, come on," Spark said, half-smiling. "That's like a classic awesome song. You _so_ would have been singing it to yourself, I just know it."

"No, _I wouldn't've_," he said tautly.

"I know you wanted to," she protested. "You almost did."

"I didn't."

_"Oh sure the banner may be torn and the wind's gotten colder, perhaps I've grown a little cynicalll,"_ Spark sang quietly.

"Stop," he said sharply.

She ignored him. _"But I know no matter what the wai-tress brings I should drink in and always be fullll. . ."_

"Shut the hell up!" he said loudly.

Again, Spark ignored him. "_Yeah I will drink in and always be full! Ohhh. . ."_ Only then did she stop, halting as she obviously waited for him to pick it up.

Yeah, right. He stared hard at her. Very carefully, he told her: "Over. My. Dead. Body."

She _tsk_ed. "Oh, come on, I know you know the next lines. Just go. Go on, sing, it's okay. It's a good song."

"I am not going to f*cking sing."

"Then just talk it," Spark suggested. "And move your voice up and down."

"No."

"Please? If you do I'll leave you alo-oonnnee," she offered, drawing out the word.

He paused, considering. "For how long?"

"Until tomorrow," Spark replied quickly, grinning. "And if you really sing it, I'll leave you alone until we actually escape."

Con hesitated, debating. If he actually sang it she'd never let him hear the end of it.

". . .'I like coffee and I like tea,' " he said finally, rolling his eyes.

"Yes!" Spark pumped her fist in the air, grinning. "Never underestimate the power of Blues Traveler."

"Or the temptation of the thought of you leaving me alone for a whole day," he added, but she didn't seem to hear him because she had begun to sing again.

_"Ohhh, I like coffee and I like tea! But to be able to enter a final plea! I still got this dream that ya just can't shake, I love ya 'till the point you can no lon-ger take!"_ Spark stopped, then said, as if she were still singing the actual song, "Don't make me gooo through this process again. . ."

" 'Well all right, okay, so be that way, I hope and pray that there's somethin' left to say' there I said it now leave me the _hell_ alone like you said you would!" he snapped all in one breath.

"Ha ha ha!" she cackled. "See, you _can _be fun."

"You said you would leave me alone," he reminded her grumpily. "So shut up now."

"Oh, about that. Umm, I lied."

He should've known that was coming. Groaning and dropping his head down on his crossed arms, he said, "I am really going to kill you one of these days."

"And what a fun day it shall be, Con," Spark replied smugly, leaning back in her chair and folding her hands behind her head. "What a fun day it shall be."

* * *

*please don't call this number. i'm fairly certain it isn't an actual working line.

sorry it took me so long to update-this chapter was a little tricky to write at times. but it's all done now, so yeah. hope you liked it.

and bonus points if you can guess the name of the song spark (and almost con) was singing.


	19. Chapter 19

sorry that's it's been forever. school started, and, um. . .yeah.

and by the way, bonus points to IceDragon19 for correctly identifying the song spark was singing (and con was talking) last chapter. it was indeed run-around, by blues traveler.

disclaimer: don't own maximum ride.

* * *

_**19. london, baby**_

He woke up in a truck.

Con sat up, then held still as his head spun and a wave of nausea nearly caused him to throw up. Once it passed, he blinked and looked around the darkened interior of the vehicle.

It looked like the back of a moving truck, and he wasn't alone. He counted one, two, three. . .eleven other bodies in there with him. The entire group of bird-kids, passed out, in the back of a truck.

_Hmmm. This's a tough one,_ he thought sarcastically, shifting so he could lean back against the metal side of the truck.

The _Princess Andromeda_ had finally pulled into London, probably sometime during the night when they were all asleep. The whitecoats must've gassed the rooms, moved the kids to the truck, and now it was off to wherever the hell it was the stupid conference thing was taking place.

He glanced over the rest of the flock, all of who were still out cold. Just by the way they were lying, Con could tell who'd been moved in when. The ones back here, furthest from the door, had obviously been brought in first; himself, of course, and just in the back corner of the truck Shadow and Angel were curled up together, each looking much more innocent than they actually were.

Towards the center of the truck was Max, and Angel's brother, Gasman. Near them, propped up against the side of the truck, were Blaze and Iggy. Con couldn't help but smirk as he saw how Blaze's head was resting gently on Iggy's shoulder. That kid was gonna get one hell of a wake-up call when Blaze regained consciousness.

Fang, with Avi beside him, lay right by the truck's back door, furthest from where Con was sitting. A few feet to their left was Swift, whose arm was being used as a pillow by Nudge.

And then, of course. . .

Spark lay curled up into a ball right next to Con, her blond hair half-unraveled from its braid and falling over her face. Her eyelids flickered every now and then-she was dreaming. By the way she jerked and twitched occasionally, it was either a really active dream or a very scary nightmare. He wondered if he should wake her up, but then decided against it. They all needed sleep.

Con let out a breath and leaned his head back against the side of the truck as it continued to drive along on its way to London. Every now and then the vehicle ran over a pothole, causing the whole back end of the truck to leap up, sometimes jolting kids awake, sometimes just jostling them around.

Spark, however, stayed curled up at his side, still twitching.

* * *

_It's dark. So dark. I hate it when this happens, as it does sometimes when the testing extends into the night. The contrast from sterile white walls and pale fluorescent light to the pitch-black square that is my bedroom after nine p.m. sometimes leaves me disoriented. Lost._

_Afraid of the dark._

_I stare wide-eyed into the blackness, but it doesn't recede. No familiar shapes emerge, and I see nothing. After a few pained, stretched-out moments that feel like hours, I squirm down further into my bed, my small body curling into a fetal position, my eyes shutting tight as I pull the blankets over my head._

_Somehow I'm back in the room, where so often the janitors are called to re-paint over blackened scorch-marks, or to clean up blood and vomit._

_I hate this room._

_This is where they send me when I don't cooperate. Which is far too often-you'd think my incredibly-advanced-for-my-age brain would've figured it out by now. Throwing a hissy fit = this room. But somehow I never seem to remember that fact._

_A man stands in the corner of the room, next to the freezer where they keep the dry ice. I recognize the pale green eyes and the bushy mustache. It's Mr. Jay. My teacher, my friend._

_He stands there, unmoving and blank-faced, as something tall and dark appears in the doorway. I'm suddenly strapped down to a table, and a set of tongs appears in the black-cloaked figure's hands. A smoking chunk of dry ice is held firmly in the instrument's grasp._

_He drifts closer, not really walking, but sorta floating over the ground, like a ghost. My whole body is suddenly burning and I look down to see the angry, crisscrossing marks of the whip all over. Usually they only hit my back, where it won't be seen. . ._

_I start to fight my bonds, my heart thumping wildly, my breaths coming in short gasps. I can't stop staring at the small cube of icy pain that the man in the cloak keeps bringing forward._

_He's closer now, by the table that I'm strapped to, and he stops, holding the dry ice close to my arm. His head-totally misshapen and concealed by the hood of his creepy dementor cloak-turns to look at Jay, still in the corner._

_I'm waiting, expecting for him to jump up and save me, but he doesn't. He just stares, his face set in a stonily indifferent expression. I start to cry, to yell and scream for him, but he doesn't respond._

_The black-cloaked man turns his head back to me again. The block of ice starts to move again, descending down on my arm. . ._

_I scream and thrash and I hear doors fly open and slam shut. A weight comes flying down onto my bed and the movement makes me bounce, jerking me awake. But I'm still screaming and thrashing, because it's dark again, and I can't see._

_"Spark, Spark!" a voice says, over and over. Fabric rustles and he crawls on top of me, sitting on my legs so I'll stop kicking at nothing. "What's wrong, wake up! It's okay, it was just a dream!"_

_I know that voice but I can't see the face that goes with it. It's so dark the cloaked guy with the ice could be hovering right at the bedside and I wouldn't see. I've stopped screaming now, but I still squirm, trying to get away from the body that's trying to pin me down on the bed. Why won't he let me up? Why won't he let me run away?_

_My hands are flailing wildly, but somehow he manages to catch my wrists and pins them down onto the mattress._

_"SPARK!" Con says loudly, practically yelling. "WAKE UP!"_

_My eyes fly open-weird, because I don't remember closing them-and oh, God, I can _see_. Even though it's still dark, at least I can tell where everything is. Con's leaning over me, his eyes clouded with worry and concern, giving him a look much too adult for a five-year-old's face._

_I'm breathing like I've just run a billion miles. ". . .Dream," I finally say between pants._

_"Yeah," he says, nodding. "It was a dream." He knows better than to ask what it was about. "Just a dream. Not real."_

_I nod back. My eyes start to sting and prickle. "Yeah."_

_He lets out a breath of relief and sits back, releasing my hands. "You're starting to scare me, Spark," he says, sighing. "That's like the fourth time this week."_

_The tears start to well up in my eyes and I shut them tight again. But this time, Con's here, so I'm not scared. I can hear him breathing, feel him still sitting on my legs despite the fact I'm past the point of thrashing about blindly. The dream-or rather, nightmare-flashes across my mind and I sniffle a bit, dragging the back of my hand across my eyes._

_Con shifts off of me, but stays on the bed, sitting with his legs crossed and his back against the wall. He's going to stay again, and for that I'm glad. If he's close by it'll be that much easier for him to wake me up from a nightmare._

_Still trying not to cry, I turn onto my side, facing the same wall he's leaning against. I pull the blanket back up over my head as I sniffle one last time. Con's hand slides under the blanket to grab one of my hands._

_"I know," he whispers, squeezing my fingers reassuringly. "I know."_

_But he doesn't. And he won't._

_Because never in my life will I tell him._

* * *

The floor bumped up beneath me and I jerked awake.

_God,_ I thought, closing my eyes again in an attempt to gather my thoughts. _What the hell is it with all these dreams?_

Only, well, I think we all know that hadn't been just a simple dream. Just my luck that the first chance I get at a real night's sleep, my mind decides that hey, maybe now's the chance to spring some decade-old memories that have only recently been retrieved on the old girl. See what happens. It'll be fun!

It'd been a memory. About all those nightmares I used to get back at the Factory, before I escaped.

Huh. A dream about dreaming. Weird.

My life used to be so simple, too.

And. . ._God,_ it'd seemed so _real_. Even the part that hadn't been real. It'd just been so. . ._tangible_. Lifelike. And. . .and _Con_ had been there. And he'd been _nice_. Which made it all the more unbelievable.

The floor jumped up again and my eyes popped open. But it was dark. . .and I couldn't see. I was upright in an instant, trying to calm my thudding heart. At my back was something cold and hard-it felt like a metal wall. I slid my hands along the gritty floor in hope of coming into contact with something, anything. I could hear the low murmur of voices, muffled by what sounded like an engine. The room seemed to be moving, so. . .a truck? Maybe? Was that where I was?

My left hand came into contact with another set of fingers, which twitched away.

"You're awake, finally?" Con's voice asked.

The knot in my chest loosened and I calmed down a little. Even if it was just Con, that was better than nobody. (Then I remembered the dream/memory, and I got all tense again.) But then I heard the sound of Blaze and Iggy in yet _another_ spat, with Max _again_ trying to break it up, all while Nudge chattered girlishly in the background. I guess the rest of the flock was there, too.

I cleared my throat. "Um, yeah," I said, in response to Con's question. I shifted in an attempt to get more comfortable, then asked, "What's going on? Where are we?"

"We pulled into London, finally," he told me, "and they gassed the rooms before dumping us all here in this truck. We're probably being taken to the Director. Or at least one of her lackeys so they can explain to us what they want us to do."

"And then we'll do the opposite." I leaned back against the wall. . .or, the side of the truck, I guess. . .and let out a breath. My eyes were starting to adjust, thank God. I could begin to make out the different shapes of my friends. "Think they know anything?"

"Doubt it," Con said bluntly. "To them we're still just kids they think they've got control over. And even if they _did_ think something was up, they won't guess that we're coordinating with Dylan and Joey's groups."

I winced internally at his use of the D name, because had we not established that he's only Dylan when his eyes are red? But I let it slide and asked, "Have you seen them at all?"

"How would I have?" Con said irritably, and I guessed that his eyes rolled as well. "It's just us bird-kids in here. But we'll probably get a chance later, Dylan'll set something up."

I frowned. _One too many, dude._ "It's Sy," I said shortly.

"Hm?"

"Sy," I repeated. "His name is _Sy_, Con. I told you this already. He's Sy when his eyes are blue, and Dylan when his eyes are red. So call him Sy or I will physically have to hurt you."

"Fine, geez," he mumbled. There was a pause-during which my bird genes finally kicked in and I was able to see the interior of the truck-and then Con asked, "But what happens if his eyes go purple? Do I have to call him Sy-lan?"

I scowled and reached out to smack his arm, snapping, "You idiot!"

The others finally noticed that I was awake, and I saw a couple of them smiling with a mixture of happiness and relief. Had I been out that long?

"Wait, is that Spark?" Max asked, turning away from a conversation she'd been having with Fang at the opposite end of the truck. "Is she awake?"

"No," I said tiredly. "Actually, I died. Like, twenty minutes ago already. Sad that it took you that long to notice."

Surprisingly, Max. . .well, she _smiled._ Kinda. It was small, but it was there. Really. I swear.

"Nice to see you're okay, Spark," she said.

I smiled wryly back at her. "Same goes for you, Max. And the rest of you, too," I added, looking around at everyone else. "I'm glad our crappy escape plan didn't get anybody hurt."

"_Not_ true," Iggy said. He raised his arm, which was bruised. "Your boyfriend tried to kick the crap outta me. Not that he actually ever _could_, but he tried."

"I'll make him say sorry," I told him, smirking.

"You got hurt too, Spark," Angel said matter-of-factly. "And so did Con."

I hesitated as I thought about how to respond to that. ". . .Yeah. But, um, we're okay now, so. . ."

"No, you're not. You've got a scar on your hand, from where Ariel kicked you," Gazzy piped up, pointing at me. I looked down at my left hand and sure enough, there it was: a white starburst shape on my knuckle, yet another scar on my body that was courtesy of Ariel.

I really don't like that chick.

"And Con's got a scar now, too," Shadow said. "On his eye. Like yours."

"It's like you match," Nudge added brightly.

My hand automatically drifted up to my face, to the raised line beneath my right eye. I glanced at Con, but he was looking the other way.

"Whatever," he said, like he didn't care. He looked around at the rest of the flock (somehow managing to skip over me and avoid my eyes) and added, "It doesn't matter. What _does_ matter is that we're not on that stupid boat anymore. We're in England now, and probably close to London. We should all try to rest up so we can be alert for escape after we throw the conference."

There were murmurs of agreement all around, and I lost track of the conversation after that. That weird dream/memory was still fresh in my mind, and I couldn't help but stare at Con. According to the dream/memory, he used to be so nice. He'd chase the nightmares away, even though I refused to tell him what they were about. He'd do my job of being leader when I was away, or too weak to do it myself. He'd. . .he'd been my friend. And I'd repaid him by running away and leaving him in that hellhole.

No wonder he hated me.

* * *

Director Lilith Dicus' eyebrows came together in suspicion.

"They've agreed," she said. It wasn't a question, but rather a disbelieving statement of fact.

"Yes, Director," replied the man standing before her. His name was Erik Jones, and he had been to see her as soon as the mutants' ship had docked. "I spoke with the leaders myself."

"Which ones?" she asked sharply.

"Spark, of course, and, ah, the eldest male," he said. He glanced down at a clipboard he held, upon which was written a short biography of each human-avian hybrid. "Constantine. The girl gave in first, after viewing the news clip from her hometown, and the boy followed soon after. They _are_ just children, Ms. Dicus," he added, with a slightly-nervous chuckle. "You can't expect much more of them."

"Yes. . .I suppose I can't. . ."

The phone on her desk rang, and automatically Jones stepped forward and picked up the receiver. "Director Dicus' office."

He paused momentarily as the person on the line spoke. Then he looked up at Dicus and asked, "Would you like to meet the hybrids, Director?"

She barely hesitated. "Yes. Send them up immediately."

"Bring 'em up," Jones said to the caller, and then hung up.

Dicus remained standing behind her desk, taking a few steadying breaths. This would be the first time she actually met with some older-generation experiments. The flawed ones, with independent minds and emotions. Usually she only dealt with newer, younger hybrids, who'd been programmed to not think for themselves. _Those_ experiments were perfect. They followed orders, they didn't question authority, and, of course, they didn't talk back. These previous generations, on the other hand. . .

A knock came on the door, and, giving Jones a quick nod, Dicus gave the order to let them in.

Jones strode over to the door and pulled it open; one of the scientists from the boat came in, followed by two robots, and. . .the avian hybrids.

The bird-kids filed in, one after another, each one flanked by robot guards, and Dicus' eyes were drawn inexplicably to a single individual.

Of course, that individual would be Spark.

Compared to the billions of other teenagers in the world, Spark didn't come off as that remarkable. (Wings and other genetic enhancements aside, of course.) Sure, she was tall, but there were others who were taller. She was thin, but others were thinner. Her skin was lightly tanned, her hair was blond, and she had a faint scar under her right eye. Nothing that made her stand out too much.

Unless you knew who she was. _What_ she was.

Then everything changed. Her previously unalarming appearance became suddenly suspicious; because really, how could anything so normal and unthreatening be capable of such power? Just how did those dead golden-brown eyes suddenly come to life with fury, or sadness, or joy?

"Director," said the woman scientist, nodding her head respectfully. "These are the experiments you asked for. I am delighted to inform you that they have agreed to cooperate for the conference tomorrow."

Dicus barely listened-she was watching the children. A few exchanged glances, and a few snuck looks at her, but other than that, no reaction. Nothing. No attitude, no sarcasm, no back-talk.

How odd.

"My name is Director Lilith Dicus," Dicus said, drawing herself up. She looked pointedly at Spark and added, "You're the one they call Spark, correct?"

The slender blond girl didn't move. She mumbled something, though.

"I'm sorry, what was that?"

A small sigh. "I said, Yeah, that's me," Spark said dully. "What d'you want?"

Dicus was a tad surprised. The remark had been tired, half-hearted; she'd been expecting something more sarcastic and energetic. The voyage had worked-they'd really been broken.

Pleased that her plan had worked, Dicus looked down her nose at Spark, a smug smirk crossing her face. "Somehow I expected more of you. You seemed so. . ._lively_ on the tapes I was shown."

Spark kept her head down, her hands shoved into the pockets of her ratty jeans. She looked unremarkably plain now, as opposed to the vicious, powerful hybrid that had caused so much havoc in Salt Lake City, in Chicago, on the _Princess Andromeda_.

Dicus cast her eyes over the other mutants, taking in their similar expressions and stances. They were all still and quiet, averting their eyes. A few looked broodingly angry, others looked blank, and others still looked miserable and woebegone.

"As you have agreed to cooperate with us, we will show our gratitude," she said. "You will be taken to some rooms that have been prepared, so that you can clean up, change, and make yourselves presentable. We will allow you to rest tonight, but tomorrow, we expect you to perform your best in the events we have planned. Hopefully, you will impress enough to prove beneficial to us."

* * *

I listened to the Director drawl on for about ten more seconds before I tuned her out. I glanced around at the others, and was relieved to see that they were all playing their parts well. The kids looked sadly confused, or hopelessly resigned, while the elder ones looked broodingly angry, sending Con and me filthy glances every now and then. Like, _I can't believe you actually caved to these freaks._

I looked at Alice, and the guy that had let us into the room. He'd been the one to confront Con and me, and the one to show me the video clip of the unfortunate end to my missing-persons case. Silly whitecoats. They were actually buying our poor-little-hybrid-kids act.

We were really in London now, but I had no idea what part of the city we were in. I'd never been here before, either, so the small glimpse I'd gotten when Alice and the M-Geeks had taken us from the truck to the Director's building hadn't done much good. The city seemed a lot more spread out than some of the major cities back in the States-the buildings weren't as cramped together-and there were a lot of trees. But I hadn't seen any major landmarks, so. I'd have to ask Max if she recognized this part of town; apparently she and the girls had been here before. Though under slightly-different circumstances.

"Is that clear?" Lilith Dicus suddenly asked, and I flicked my gaze over to her. She was a shorter woman, with dark red hair and dark brown eyes. Right off the bat I hadn't liked her, and not just because she was the leader of the evil corporation that was responsible for all the crazy shit in my life. Dicus just looked all cocky and full of herself, which was a big no-no in my book.

She raised an eyebrow at me, so I quickly responded to her question by mumbling, "Yes, Director."

From beneath my bangs I cast a sidelong look at Con. He met my eyes and gave a minute nod.

_Oh, if only you knew what we've planned, Lily, _I thought, biting my lip to keep the smirk from my face. _Oh, if only you knew. . ._

* * *

again, REALLY sorry that it took so long for me to update. it's a lot harder to crank out these chapters than it was for _when sparks fly_. but we're getting there. i'm not giving up on it, i swear. not stopping 'till it's finished. how long it'll be till it _is_ finished, though. . .

ah well. happy labor day.


	20. Chapter 20

hey! i'm actually updating in under a week! bet y'all are surprised, huh?

disclaimer: don't own maximum ride

* * *

_**20. **__**how many mutants does it take to plan a failure?**_

"Fancy," I said, trailing my fingers along the windowsill, looking down at the courtyard below. It wasn't much-just a few trees, grass, a pond. A sidewalk trailing through it in a random winding pattern. It was nice. Quaint, even.

The only thing that annoyed me was that it didn't give us any inclination as to where we were.

"I'm inclined to agree." Blaze flopped down on one of the beds, closing her eyes and letting out a breath as she folded her hands behind her head. "We made it. And without getting killed, too."

"Yep," Max said, doing a routine check of the other two rooms in our suite. "_Now _all we have to do is wait around until tomorrow, hopefully find time to meet with all the other mutants so we can convince them to help us, purposely fail all the tests they have for us, make sure all the investors refuse to keep pouring money into Itex's corporation, and _then_ escape, all without getting caught, hurt, or killed."

"That was some of the best nutshelling I've ever heard," I complimented, and she sent me a wry look.

"The waiting around until tomorrow part will _not_ be a problem," Blaze said with satisfaction. "I could get used to this place."

"Max!" Nudge and Angel came bounding into the second of the two bedrooms, beaming all over their bright young faces, Avi trailing quietly along behind. "Max, the bathtub's got jets, like a hot tub!" Nudge exclaimed.

"Again," Blaze said, propping herself up on her elbows, "I could get used to this place."

Max looked over at me, and we shared a grin.

The Director had really pulled out all the stops for us this time. After the meeting we'd been taken down from her office to the floor below, and then led to two separate suites, one for the boys and one for the girls. Our suite had two bedrooms, a main room, and a giant bathroom. King-sized beds were stationed in the bedrooms, while the main room held a big-screen TV and a kitchenette, which held a rather large refrigerator and pantry that we'd already raided. Now that we were "cooperating," that Ms. Dicus wanted to make sure that we stayed happily cooperative.

Sucker.

"It's nicer than back home, even," Avi said, wandering over to a full-length mirror on one wall. She pressed her fingers to it and slid it aside-it wasn't just a mirror, but also the door to a closet. Avi peeked inside, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Though the wardrobe could use some work."

"Why, what's in there?" Nudge asked eagerly, darting over to take a look. Of course the clothes would get her all excited. "Aw, man." She grabbed something and pulled it out, holding it up for the rest of us to see. "This is _so_ not cute."

It was a jacket, plain and an odd bluish-gray color. The rest of the clothes were the same color, and just as plain: slim-legged pants, long-sleeve shirts. I noticed they all bore the Itex logo, as did the various-sized tennis shoes that were lined up along the floor of the closet.

"It looks like we've got a uniform," I said. "Think the guys have the same stuff?"

"Probably," Max said, rolling her eyes. "They want us to look all neat and identical so we can make a good impression."

"Hey, there're already slits in the back," Nudge said, poking her finger through the back of the jacket she was still holding. "Guess they want us to fly tomorrow, too."

"Well, other than the color, those clothes will be good," Blaze said. "Looks like they were designed to be easy to move around in. And it's good that we don't have to cut wing-slits ourselves."

"Why's that good?" Nudge asked, putting the jacket back and rifling through the other clothes-probably looking for her size.

"If the slits hadn't been pre-cut, that would've meant they didn't want us flying," Avi said. "And if we couldn't fly, that'd make our escape a lot harder."

"Do we have a plan for that?" Angel asked, looking up at Max. "For escaping, I mean."

"There's always a plan," Max said confidently, but I saw in her eyes that she was lying through her teeth.

"We'll fine-tune it once we get a chance to find Sy and the cat guys," I said reassuringly. "You hear their thoughts at all, Angel?"

The little girl tilted her head and listened. "I can hear the boys across the hall," she said, "and I can hear the Director and those other whitecoats upstairs. But I can't hear anyone else."

"What's the Director thinking about now?" Max asked quickly. She wasn't the only one who wanted to know-Avi and Nudge turned away from the closet, and even Blaze sat all the way up to focus on Angel.

Angel paused for a while, and I tried not to tap my foot impatiently.

"She's thinking about Spark," she said finally.

Everyone looked at me, and I raised my eyebrow. "Me? Why?"

"She's wondering why you and Con suddenly changed your minds," Angel said, staring off into space as she relayed the Director's thoughts. "Because everything everybody told her about you made her sure that you'd never do it, so she's a little suspicious."

"Crap," Blaze muttered, but then Angel went on.

"But the one whitecoat, Jones, I think, keeps telling her that you freaked out about the news video he showed you and so you realized that you don't have any other options," she recited. I had a feeling she was pretty much giving us the thoughts word-for-word. "She's kinda starting to believe it, but she still thinks something's a little weird." Angel stopped then, and blinked. Then she looked at me and asked, "What news video did he show you?"

I tensed and hesitated. Everyone was looking at me again. I tried to stall. "Uh. . .well, it was just. . ."

Thankfully, though, just then a knock came on the door to our suite. Angel abruptly changed subject by turning and leaving the room, calling, "It's just the guys," back over her shoulder.

Max was slower to leave. She sent me a look that meant, "We'll talk about this later." I rolled my eyes. Of course we would.

Nudge left too, dragging Avi behind her as she began to babble on about Swift, leaving me alone in the room with Blaze. Not wanting to remain on my own with a crazy punk chick who'd tried to kill me multiple times, I made to leave as well.

But she held me back.

"Hey. . ."

I stopped at the door and turned. "Yeah?"

Blaze hesitated for a second, then got up from the bed and gave me a hard look. "I meant to say this before, but there wasn't time," she said. "So I'm going to say it now." She paused, then added, "But only if you close the door."

"Say what now?" I asked warily, doing as she asked. For some reason the "only if you close the door" part didn't bode well with me.

"Just because we're all working together on this one thing this one time, that doesn't mean we're just going to stop chasing you once it's over," Blaze told me bluntly. "We are _not_ friends, and we are _still_ going to make your life miserable for what you did to us."

I stared at her for a second, then rolled my eyes. "Oh, my. . .Really? I knew that, Blaze. I _know _that for whatever reason, you guys just can't let go of the fact that I ditched you when we were kids."

"You didn't just _ditch_ us," she snapped in disgust. "You _threw us to the wolves_. You left us on our own so that the scientists could do whatever the hell they wanted with us!"

"Well, I'm sorry, but. . ."

"No, you know what, I don't think you are!" she said, her voice rising as she overrode me. "Do you even remember those last couple weeks you spent at the Factory?"

I stopped to think. Slowly, I said, "I remember they wanted to take me to New York. . .It was something big, like a meeting or something. I don't know, I'm still kinda fuzzy. . ."

Blaze let out a frustrated breath. "Then you don't remember what was going on with you and me then."

"What about you and me?" I asked slowly.

Blaze stared at me, and for once her blue eyes were completely void of silver. It was a little startling, because I knew she was worked up and angry, but her eyes weren't showing it.

"We had a plan," she said clearly. "You and me. They were going to send you to New York, all right, but that was going to be the last time they sent you anywhere."

I froze. "What're you. . ."

"The time before that, they dumped you back on Jay with half your bones broken and your back all slashed up from a whip," she said matter-of-factly. "Both Con and me had to give you blood so you wouldn't kick the bucket."

My eyes widened. "But. . .when. . ." I spluttered, trying to find words. "I-in Salt Lake, you said. . ."

"Jay told us a rogue Eraser had attacked you," she said flatly. "Kept us away so we couldn't see that the wounds weren't consistent with an Eraser's claws. I only just found out what really happened after you got away from us in Chicago-I had Swift pull up the old files.

"But anyway, once you healed, you said to me you didn't want to live in the Factory anymore. You said you wanted to run away. _I_ said you couldn't just leave, so you said you'd take us with you. You said we could all run away together, and live on our own away from the scientists, away from the tests, and away from Itex."

I couldn't stop staring at her.

"So I started checking stuff out, and I figured out that on the first day of every month, at one in the morning, the maintenance guys shut down all the alarms and security cameras and electric locks in the building so they could re-calibrate it and give it a new access code. I told you about it, and we set up a plan to escape then, at one in the morning on the first day of July."

"July. . ." It was starting to get hard to breathe. "That's. . .but that's when I. . ."

"Your trip to New York was moved up, but you swore to me you'd get Jay to get you out of it. He said you had to go, but only for a few days. You promised me you'd be back by the end of June. And I believed you."

"I. . .I had no idea I. . .I don't remember. . ." Harder to think now, too.

She chuckled hollowly. "And then, the day after you leave, I hear that your stupid truck broke down, and that you had run away."

"Blaze, I. . .I was just a kid," I tried to say in my defense. "How was I supposed to. . ."

"You _ran away,_" she said, dangerously soft, looking me right in the eye. Again, the fact that hers weren't silver when she was so obviously furious set me on edge. "_Without_ us. After you _promised_ me. I don't ever remember crying so hard."

"But. . .I. . ."

"I was so pissed at you that I set your room on fire." She shook her head, then reverted back to her pissed-off ranting so fast that I actually jumped. "I burned down the whole west _wing _of that f*cking place! And because they didn't have the money to rebuild it as a residential wing, they had to move us to the southern sector, where we were already spending most of the time training and testing anyway!"

"Blaze," I tried to say yet again. She was breathing hard, her fists clenched and shaking, but her eyes were still completely blue. Somehow, it made me more uneasy than when her irises were total silver discs of rage.

"_That's_ why I, at least, hate you, Spark," she said, her voice forcibly even. "Because after all of your words, and all of your promises, and all of the stuff you did to protect us from the whitecoats, you _left_. You left us to fend for ourselves after you promised we'd always be together. _That's_ why I won't forgive you for running away."

And without another word, she shoved me out of the way and stalked out the door.

* * *

I entered our suite's front room much more slowly, dazed by all of the new information Blaze had dumped on my head. Max glanced at me questioningly, but I ignored her. Nobody else seemed to notice me, so I was able to drift over to a chair in relative peace.

I'd ditched them. Con and Blaze and Swift. We'd already had an escape all planned out, and then I just jumped the gun and ran away without them. And, because I'd run away, they'd upped the security so the escape plan wouldn't fly anymore. No _wonder_ they hated me! That'd been a dick move, plain and simple. I'd hate me too. God. How bitchy was I?

Now that she'd told me, I _did_ remember. A little, at least. I remembered myself talking to five-year-old Blaze, who had a pink streak in her hair where the red was now, convincing her that running away would be better for all of us. I remembered the relief when she told me about the first-of-the-month security update, the one night when they wouldn't be watching. . .

A hand lighted on my shoulder and I looked up.

"Don't I get a hello?" Sy asked, half-smiling down at me.

I couldn't even be happy to see him. I was so disappointed in myself and so saddened by the fact that Blaze had actually been right about something that I just. . .felt kinda hollow inside. Shock, I guess.

I tried to smile, but I couldn't get my mouth to move the right way. "Hello."

Instantly his expression changed. He knew me so well now that he could tell something was wrong just from a single word. Looking concerned, Sy knelt down by the side of my chair and asked, "What's up?"

"Nothing," I lied, but I knew it was no good. He'd be able to tell. So I shook my head and amended with, "It's nothing I wanna talk about right now."

I expected him to drop it, like he usually did, but instead he pulled a Max and tried to press me for more information. "Come on, you haven't looked like that since Joey and Frankie told you you were gonna die in ten minutes. What's wrong?"

_I look that bad?_ I thought, thinking back to how I'd felt that last night I'd been trapped in the Factory. It'd been like someone had wiped me free of emotion then; I'd been too stunned to even think straight.

So, yeah. That was pretty similar to what I was feeling now.

"It's. . ." I paused, debating whether or not I wanted to say it. Part of me wanted to carry that information to the grave. "Blaze told me something just now, and. . ."

I was saved from having to say anything by Swift, of all people.

"How'd you guys do it?"

Despite the fact that he was so quiet, everybody heard and stopped chattering about the rooms and whatnot. I looked up beyond Sy and saw Swift, from his seat beside Avi, was looking at me.

"How'd we do what?" I asked stupidly.

He glanced at Avi to answer for him-guess that's all the words we were gettin' outta ol' Talon today. So Avi spoke up and clarified, saying, "How did you and Con make them believe we actually wanted to do all this?"

"Oh." I shifted, remembering the video. I let my eyes drop to the floor. "Well, um, some M-Geeks caught us after we talked to Blaze and Iggy about the plan. Some guy was waiting for us by the time they got us back to the cell, and he said he wanted to talk with us."

"He was there so he could convince us to cave and do the London conference," Con interrupted, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah," I said. "So, we talked, and, um. . .he gave us an opportunity and we took it."

"What d'you mean he gave you an opportunity?" Fang asked.

I shifted, avoiding all eyes. "Um. . ."

"He showed us a video," Con said, picking up the tale and taking attention away from me. He really is nicer than I give him credit for. "A news clip from where Spark lives. Apparently the whitecoats made a human clone of her, killed it, and left it for the cops to find. Good news is they'll stop looking for her and asking her family weird questions, but the bad news is. . .well, kind-of obvious."

There were a few sharp intakes of breath. _So it really is as bad as it sounds, then._

Sy's hand dropped from my shoulder and he twined his fingers with mine, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze. "Sorry," he whispered. "It'll be okay."

I tried to smile again. "Thanks."

He's nice, too.

I sighed, but attempted to breeze on. "But, you know, upside," I said briskly. "After he showed it to us, I pretended like I was sick of running and whatever and said I'd do the conference. Con caved right after, and then the guy left. So here we are."

"Huh," Iggy said. "You guys must've been really convincing."

"Oh, we were," I assured him. "It was a great scene, one that ought to be immortalized on the big screen. We'd get Keira Knightley to play me and Steven Strait for Con. What say all of you?" I asked, looking around at everybody else. Smiles had returned, which made me feel better. The less we're focused on sad things, the more fun we get to have.

Nudge's face instantly lit up and she kept the thought going. "Ooh, could we be in it?" she asked. "I'd want, like, Halle Berry to play me. She's really pretty."

"Sure, Nudge," I said, laughing a little. "We all get to be in it. Well, maybe not Sy."

_"What?"_ he cried out with false outrage while the others laughed. "But I'm a very important character!"

I smirked at him and he smiled back, glad that I was at least a little bit more like my usual sarcastic, joking self. "Well, the director got pissed when we told her you couldn't be portrayed by Robert Pattinson, so she just got rid of the whole role."

He shook his head in disgust. "That bitch."

"Yeah. For some reason she seems obsessed with putting him in every movie she makes now."

"Wait." Con scratched the back of his head, thinking. "If she wants him in it, that means they'll probably get rid of Straight and have him play _me_ now. That is _so_ not cool."

That unexpected snippet of wit from the guy who usually hates it when _I_ say stuff like that surprised me so much that I laughed right out loud.

"If we assume that this freaky director lady makes creepy glitter boy play Con, then I guess it would only be assumed that the lead girl's gonna be played by Kristen Stewart," Blaze said. "Which means the question is, which of us is the lead girl in this movie?"

"Well, whoever it is," I said quickly before anybody could pin her on me, "I'm sure we're all much too lively for her to handle. It seems this movie idea will only end badly."

"Agreed," Sy said. Then he stood up and looked around. "Um, who exactly is in charge of planning out what we're doing tomorrow? The guys downstairs want to talk with them."

"There are guys downstairs?" the Gasman asked.

"Yeah, the rest of my school," Sy told him. "And Joey's group is the floor below them, but I think we only have time to see my kids before they send somebody to come to check on us." He looked around again. "Who wants to plan out our failure?"

* * *

Well, _of course_ I went. I like meeting people. Plus, Con and Max kinda said I had to, 'cuz apparently I was the one with all the connections. And Max and Con came along, too, to supervise, probably because neither of them really trusted me with something so important as planning to fail.

Sy led us to an elevator and we went down one floor. A few seconds later we were striding down a hallway strikingly similar to the one above, Sy counting off doors under his breath.

"One, two, three. . .this one."

He went into the fourth door down the hall, and after a quick glance at Con and Max, I followed him. They were right behind me.

The room was the same layout as ours upstairs, with the exact same furniture in all the same places; the only difference was the color scheme. A quick glance and head-count told me that a little over half of the fish hybrids were gathered around the big-screen TV, watching a cartoon that featured people playing some kind of card game while riding motorcycles.* I realized Ariel (thankfully) was missing, as well as a few others. They were all wearing black, virtual carbon copies of the uniforms we had in our own closets upstairs. Sy, too, I realized, was decked out in Itex's finest work-out clothes.

The door clicked shut behind Con and the fish-kids all looked up. I saw a variation of eye color, but, thankfully, no red. Small comfort, though; none of them looked particularly happy to see us. Sy, they liked. Us, not so much.

I spotted the twins-the girl I recognized from her hat, which was the same one she'd been wearing when we'd tried to escape the boat the first time. Black, with that off-white religious symbol that looks like a fish. Ha! How perfect.

She and her brother glanced at each other, sharing a wary look. The others-a girl with skin similar to Nudge's, the girl with bright green hair, a blond boy about Avi's age, and a smaller girl of about six-had similar expressions. Well, not so much the youngest. She just looked over me, Max, and Con curiously.

Sy crossed the room and turned off the TV. This was met with exclamations of protest, such as, "We were watching that!" and "Hey!" and "That was a good part!"

For the most part Sy ignored them, instead asking, "Where's everybody else?"

"Now we're gonna miss how Yusei beats Jack," the blond boy said.

"I asked you guys a question," Sy said evenly, his eyes narrowing irritably.

"And we'll answer as soon as you turn that TV back on," retorted the girl in the hat. Then she sneered. "You're not the dad anymore, Sy."

"Never really were," her twin added quietly.

All right. So maybe they didn't like Sy so much, either.

Sy rolled his eyes, but obligingly turned the television back on. "Okay, now. . ."

"Oh, nice move!" the green-haired girl exclaimed. "Now he's down to 1200!"

"Guys!" Sy said loudly, sounding frustrated. They all fell quiet, looking a bit surprised. I, too, was a little taken aback. I'd never really heard him actually get mad before. Very evenly, Sy said, "I _asked you_ a _question_. Where are the others? Kyla, Wave, Jaxx, and Shark?"

"They. . .the guys went with Ariel to check out the stadium," said the African-American girl timidly. "And Kyla and Wave are in their room."

"_Thank_ you," he sighed, then turned and strode off into one of the bedrooms.

Max nudged me and whispered, "Guess he's not so popular, huh?"

"Shut up," I whispered back.

Then a nudge came from the other side and Con muttered, "They're staring at us."

And they were. All the fish-kids were only giving half their attention to the TV; the other half was focused on me, Con, and Max, lingering as we were by the door. In an attempt to break tension, I waved at them.

They all glanced at each other, until, as one, the twins rose and came over to meet us, stopping about three feet from us. The girl crossed her arms and looked me up and down, as if she was sizing me up.

After a few seconds' awkward silence, I realized the real reason Max and Con made me go to the planning. I may not be as good as some people at making friends, but I sure as hell was a lot better at it than either of them.

So I cleared my throat. "So. Um, I don't think we've actually officially met. I'm Spark," I said, pointing to myself. Then I crossed my arms and pointed Con and Max on either side of me. "And these are my peeps. This one's Con, and this one's Max. You can call them Con and Max."

Someone back by the TV giggled, and the boy twin before me almost smiled.

"I'm Arthur," he said quietly. "This is my sister, Aqua."

"I assume that I can call you Arthur and Aqua," I said.

"Well, maybe," Aqua said, propping her arm on her brother's shoulder. "But just for starters, I wanna tell ya something. Just 'cuz we're helping you out this one time on this one thing, that doesn't mean we're automatically friends." (Wow. She just sounded so much like Blaze when she said that.) "We're only doin' it 'cuz Sy asked."

"And because we're sick of Itex and the Lab's games," her twin added. "Nobody said anything about liking you. But we might reconsider that."

"But only if you're nice," Aqua said.

"And maybe if you buy us something."

"Like a pony."

"Or a puppy."

"Maybe a goldfish."

"But that would be weird."

"Yes it would."

"Kind of mean, considering."

"I thought we were trout, though."

"I don't think there's any way of telling."

Con groaned softly, but I couldn't stop smiling. Twins are fun. And these guys reminded me of my cousins, Cody and Beck. We'd get along.

"Well, that is something to think about," I said, and the twins smirked. "But, um, for now let's just focus on the failure that will be tomorrow."

"Oh good," said an unfamiliar voice from across the room. "I'd like to get that over with as fast as possible anyway. I have other things to do."

"Yeah, me too," said another. "Like, um, we were supposed to go steal the Declaration of Independence tomorrow, too, and we can _not_ be late for that."

Con, Max and I all looked up past from the twins as Sy came back out of the bedroom, two unfamiliar fish girls in tow. One was blond, the other brunette, but they both had ruby-red eyes, which set me on edge. But as Sy seemed perfectly at ease with them I guessed they weren't going to play for Team Itex.

Didn't mean I had to trust them, though.

"Hi, Constantine," the blond one said, smiling and waggling her fingers. She even winked. Con made a funny choking noise, and I bit my lip to keep from laughing. Beside me, though, Max didn't bother hiding her amusement, and snorted.

The blond giggled. "I love it when he gets all awkward like that."

"Don't we all," the other girl said, rolling her eyes. Then she looked at me and asked, "You're Spark, right?"

"Well, I'm not Jack the Ripper. I don't think, at least." I put one hand on my hip and the other on my chin. "Wait. What day is it?"

"Sy said you were funny. I'm Kyla," the brunette said, half-smiling politely. She jerked her thumb at her friend and added, "I'm with stupid, otherwise known as Wave."

"Hey!" Wave protested, and a round of giggling rang out behind her. I looked over and realized the TV had been abandoned, and the remaining four children had finally gotten up the courage to approach.

The youngest, who was holding on to the blond boy's hand, looked up and smiled at me. "I'm Janey," she said sweetly. Then, pointing to the boy, the green-haired girl, and the black girl in turn, she added, "And that's D.J., and Nixie, and Aliza."

The kids all waved a little, so I waved back.

_I think this'll all work out,_ I thought.

"All right," Max said, sounding all leaderly and business-like. "So, um, I'm Max. . ."

"We know," the twins said in unison. Max frowned at them, but I sent them a smile.

So I got to know the fish kids-they turned out to be a pretty fun bunch, despite the weird cold shouldering they seemed to be giving Sy. (But Janey told me in "secret" that that was only because he'd been acting funny before, when his eyes were red. She thought it was so he wouldn't do it again. As if he could control it.)

We made sure that they'd all know what to do once the time came: if it came to running, we'd all go slow. And perhaps we'd do something silly while we were at it. If it came to strength, we'd pretend we couldn't lift whatever it was that needed lifting. (That one annoyed Aqua a bit, but Arthur convinced her it'd be best.) If it came to swimming, we could either pretend to drown or just sit at the bottom of the pool. And maybe play a game while we were down there. Anything for a laugh, really.

Not that the Itex guys would be laughing.

Just a guess.

* * *

*bet none of ya can name that show.

hope you liked this chapter. it was fun to write, and nice and long to make up for my sporadic updating with this story.


	21. Chapter 21

well, i finally got a computer of my own, after four _long_ months of having to use my brother's dinosaur of a machine. so maybe my updating will be more frequent. plus, it's a laptop, so i can now leave the confines of my room to write in exotic locations. such as the family room. and the kitchen.

and yeah. on with the story!

disclaimer: don't own maximum ride.

* * *

_**21. run, forrest, run!**_

The next day, we had to wake up nice and early so we could be ready and awake for the conference. I would have been content to sleep until five minutes before the freaking thing, but I didn't have the option because an alarm went off at five-thirty in the flippin' morning.

A collective groan rumbled through the room, the one I was sharing with Avi and Blaze. Max, Nudge, and Angel were off in the other room of the suite-I could hear their alarm blaring as well, until someone (probably Max) silenced it.

I reached out and fumbled for the side table. My fingers touched upon the clock and I felt around for the snooze button, any button that would make it shut up. After a few unsuccessful and annoying seconds of _EHH! EHH! EHH! _loud in my ear I gave up the search and just swept my hand over the tabletop, flinging the stupid thing back across the room. It exploded against the wall with a satisfying _clatter-crash!_ Pleased with myself for getting rid of the noise, I curled up in the bed and tried to snatch a few more minutes of rest.

Notice that I said _tried._

"You and Con are freakishly the same," Blaze said, daring to disturb my peace. She yawned and I heard the other bed creak as she got up. (The night before we'd played rock-paper-scissors to see who got a bed to themselves. She'd won.) "He's broken twenty clocks that way."

Just what I need when I'm trying to sleep. More thoughts about Con. I moaned, the sound muffled by my pillow. "It's too f*ckin' early, Blaze. Shut the hell up and leave me alone."

The blankets shifted as Avi, too, popped out of bed. "Like we haven't heard _that_ before," she said.

"Ugghhh. Fine!" I snapped, lifting the covers and swinging my feet to the floor. I grumpily rubbed my eyes with my knuckles. "I'm _up._"

"And there's that delightful morning cheer," Blaze said sarcastically. "What joy you must bring to the world with your sunny countenance."

Avi giggled as I made a noise like an angry cat. Blaze actually snickered once before she left the room, off to steal the first shower. I, on the other hand, immediately stumbled over to the closet to get dressed; I'd showered the night before, and old habits of school-morning routines resurfaced. Up, dressed, breakfast (maybe), leave.

I grabbed one of the uniform outfits and tossed it on the bed, ready to get dressed. I'd just taken off my sleeping shirt to change into the long-sleeve, blue-gray shirt when I heard a small intake of breath from behind me. I glanced over my shoulder and saw Avi, who was hesitating by the door, kinda staring at my back, a weird expression on her face.

"What?" I craned my neck to look. "Do I have a feather sticking out or something?" I extended my wings some so I could get a better view.

Avi blinked rapidly. "N-no, it's not. . .not your wings. It's just. . .that scar, on your back. The black one. The one that goes up your arms and across your shoulders."

". . .Oh." I awkwardly pulled on my shirt and looked down at my hands, where the black, brand-like marks were still visible. A reminder from one of my more stupider feats, the scar began on my right palm, snaked up my arm, across the back of my shoulders, down my other arm, and ended in the center of my left palm. I thought maybe they'd fade over time, but there weren't really any signs of that yet. Frowning, I ran a finger over the scar where it crossed over the top of my left wrist. Wasn't it not as deep as last month, when I'd gotten it? Or was I imagining things?

"You didn't have it when we first met you, but you did after we captured you in Chicago," Avi said, bringing me back to reality. "What. . .what _happened?_"

I blinked and looked up at her. "You don't know?" I asked, genuinely surprised. "Seriously?"

Avi shook her head. "We wondered, but nobody ever said."

"Huh." You would think they'd been given some detailed report of my daring escape. I turned and sat down on the bed, looking to the ceiling as I remembered. "Well, a while after you left, Sy came by and busted me out. We were gonna leave, but I wanted to get you guys back for torturing me, so we swung by your rooms and I trashed them. After that we started to leave again, but some Flyboys caught us, and to get them to leave I stuck a knife in a light socket and threw lightning at them. Pretty exciting. Almost died." I frowned slightly. "Don't try it, though. It hurt like a bitch."

Avi hesitated, then awkwardly said, ". . .Um, Spark? What you said. . .about trashing our rooms. . ."

"Were they pissed?" I asked quickly, grinning as I looked up at her. "Please tell me they were pissed."

"Well, yeah, they were, but. . ."

I pumped my fist. "Yes. Mission accomplished. Please, describe to me in detail how-"

"Why'd you leave my room alone and give me that cell phone to call my mom?" she blurted all in a rush.

_Ah._ I should've guessed she'd ask about that eventually. I mean, I tossed the rest of the rooms pretty good, and yet I'd left hers alone. Obvious cause for suspicion there.

I hesitated. "Uh. . .well. . ." I paused again, wondering how exactly I should word what I wanted to say. "No offense, but. . .I, uh, kinda felt sorry for you."

A puzzled expression crossed her face. "Huh?" she asked.

"Well. . ." I fidgeted as I remembered what I'd been thinking at the time. I absently scratched at my knuckles-a nervous habit I hadn't done in a while. "I mean, I could just tell that you didn't really fit in with these guys. And after you talked to me in the cell, I started getting even _more_ homesick for _my_ family. I thought. . .well, that we were kinda the same. You probably missed your family too, so I thought you could use a break."

". . .Oh." She opened her mouth as if to say something more, then abruptly turned and left the room.

"Uh. . ." _O-kayyyy,_ I thought, extremely confused. That was random. To say the least.

I finished getting dressed and was about to leave the room when Avi came back, nearly bumping into me. She blinked rapidly, then held up her hand.

In which was my dad's cell phone.

I'll admit it. I was literally speechless.

"I kept it," she said. "Even though the note said to destroy it. I saw you texted your mom to disconnect the number, so I had Swift hack someone else's number and put it on this phone.* I. . .I still use it to call my mom every once in a while." Then Avi held out the phone to me, adding, "I thought you could use a break."

I numbly took the cell. "Th-those were my words," I stuttered.

Avi gave a rare smile and said, "I'll just say you're sleeping in a little longer."

And then she left again, leaving me alone with my homesickness, a cell phone, and no eavesdroppers.

* * *

_Brrriiiinnng. Brrriiiiinng. Brrriiiinnng. Brrrriiiin-_

"Yeah, hello?"

Phil Ackerly grabbed up the phone, still shaking shower water from his ears as he waited for a reply. He was a bit annoyed that _nobody else_ in the _entire house_ could pick up the freaking phone. . .

He suddenly realized no one had answered him. "Hello?" he repeated.

". . .Ah. . ."

"Hello? Who's there?"

The person hung up without another word.

* * *

I couldn't do it. I'd heard Dad's voice, and I'd just. . .no. Couldn't do it. Just. . .the thought of him, and Jeremy, and Kenny, and Mom, all at home, without me. . .I just. . .couldn't.

No idea why.

* * *

The next hour or so passed in a blur, for me. I was too caught up in my own thoughts and homesick memories to pay attention much.

Why couldn't I just talk to my dad? I'd had him on the phone, I'd had the time to talk. And then I'd just. . .hung up. I'd even given the phone back.

I'd freaked. Big time. I mean, I haven't spoken or seen anyone from my family in over a month-more if we're talking my immediate family. I hadn't seen _them_ in nearly two months. My last contact with them had been the text I'd sent to tell them to disconnect Dad's number; and before that, some less-than-informative messages just a day or two after I'd met Max.

I'd have to drown in my own self-pity later. It was almost seven, which meant the conference was about to start.

I looked around the football-sized arena again from the safety of our dugout-like place. I say dugout-like because we were partly underground, with the actual ground about chest-height. There was a bench along the back wall, where about half the flock was sitting. The other half-including me-was standing around, waiting for something to happen. On the outside, there were stacked bleachers all around, slowly filling in with people. Chatter roiled all around the arena in a low rumble. I saw more than a few of them eyeing us like we were the newest toy on sale at Toys R Us, and I did my best to refrain from glaring. To distract myself from them, I thought back to what we'd talked about the previous day, when we'd been planning out the epic fail that was to be this day.

Sy had said we'd do speed things first: running and swimming. Then it'd be strength contests. There'd be a semi-break after that as first the fish, then the cats showed off their individual talents. Then the flock would fly around in formation for a while, and we'd show off our skills, and then we'd do what was basically a free-for-all brawl. A little over thirty hybrids fighting it out in the fake-grass field in the middle of the arena.

Or at least, that's what was _supposed_ to happen. All those investor guys were sure gonna be surprised once we started doing stuff our own way.

Over at the other side of the field, opposite our dugout, a stage had been erected. There was a line of chairs at the back, and as the people in the stands began to settle down, a group of men and women in business-like attire filed onto the stage, seating themselves in the chairs. The Director went up last, and instead of sitting moved to stand at a podium at the front of the stage. She adjusted a microphone in front of her face, and the screechy static pretty much killed my eardrums.

The arena fell silent, and then Dicus began to speak. I didn't deem it necessary to pay attention, though I'm sure Con, Max, Fang, and Blaze were all on the edges of their seats. 'Cuz, you know, that's what flock leaders do. And I'm not one.

That ridiculous woman talked for almost twenty minutes before she addressed us hybrids directly. I glanced around at the others, who must've been paying attention, as they all looked fired up and rarin' to go. I looked back to Dicus, who looked all proud and pompous as she gazed upon the three hybrid groups.

"Children!" Dicus said into her microphone. More than a few of us bristled at the term. "Would you please choose your four fastest team members and have them station themselves around the track!"

I looked left and right, where the fish kids and the cat kids were stationed on either side of our own bird-kid dugout, separated by chain-link fencing. Knowing looks and smirks were exchanged behind the backs those unaware of the scam before I turned back to the flock.

"So," I said, rubbing my hands together in anticipation of our first "event." "Who wants to do this thing?"

"Ooh, I want to!" Nudge said immediately, raising her hand. "I wanna do it! I can do, like, cartwheels or something!"

"Sure, Nudge," Max said, smiling. "Whatever you want. Who else wants to do this one?" she asked, looking around to the rest of us. Angel offered, and then Swift, too, raised his hand slightly.

"Okay, now we should have an older kid, too," I said. "So we have one from every age group. Who wants to?" None of my fellow older kids stepped forward, so I rolled my eyes and stuck out my fist. "Fine. Rock, paper, scissors, and the loser has to run."

"Fine," Blaze said, sticking her fist in. The rest followed, and then she counted it off. "One, two, go!"

There were three rocks, one paper, and one scissors. I had chosen none.

I grinned. "Ha! I win."

"What the hell is that?" Fang asked, raising an eyebrow at my wiggling fingers.

"It's fire," I said simply. "Beats everything."

"Not water balloon." Con, one of the rocks, slammed his fist down over my fingers. "You lose."

"Ow!" I yelped, snatching my hand back. Blaze and Iggy snickered, while all the littler kids laughed outright. "Mother. . ._freak_, that hurt! Geez!" I shook my hand out and turned to leave them. Glaring back at Con over my shoulder, I called, "If you didn't want to do it you should've just said so."

He mumbled something I didn't catch, but it sent Iggy cracking up. I waited until Angel and Shadow weren't looking before flipping him off.

Swift, Angel, Nudge, and I clambered out of the dugout; from our right came the fish: D.J., a black-haired boy I thought was named Jaxx, Kyla, and (of course) Sy. From our left came the cats: Frankie, Molly, and two of the "evil" guys who were apparently from Egypt.

We all walked purposefully to the spot on the track where stood a gaggle of suits with clipboards-the starting line, obviously. Once we got there, a short, stocky man took charge.

"All right," he said in a business-like manner. "You need to divide yourselves up for the separate legs of the race, and then follow the corresponding agents to the assigned places around the track."

"Last!" I called immediately, raising my hand. D.J. and Molly quickly copied me, and then we were taken away by a rather gangly, nerdy-looking man off to a quarter of the way beyond the start line. Then we watched as the others grouped up and went to the remaining parts of the track, and listened as the Director talked up some hype. I had to fight hard to make sure my smile didn't give me away. Oh, was she in for a surprise! She talked about how our different genes affected our bodies, and how our lifestyles had changed our natural abilities, and some other stuff before, _finally,_ the guy at the starting line called out, "On your mark!"

The starters all crouched down in typical racer stance.

"Get set!"

Halfway up. . .

He sounded an air horn. "Go!"

Jaxx took off running fast as a. . .a really fast thing. Frankie and Angel, on the other hand. . .

Everybody in the stands started crying out confused questions, demanding things and shouting what I assumed to be obscenities (there were lots of different languages, so I couldn't be entirely sure of the second one). Angel waved jauntily to people as Frankie leisurely piggybacked her towards the checkpoint.

Molly, D.J., and I all laughed, but stifled it quickly once we saw the look on our agent dude's face. You wouldn't expect such a geeky person to be capable of coming up with a glare that fierce. I carefully avoided looking at him and watched as the race unfolded.

Jaxx, of course, made it first. He handed off the baton he'd been given to Kyla, the next leg in the race.

She took it, but then just stood there. I could see Jaxx yelling at her, but she ignored him, waiting until Frankie and Angel made it to their own hand-offs as well. Like Jaxx had done, the evil cat not in the know of what we were doing went running like there was no tomorrow, while Nudge and Kyla hung back. Nudge backed up and did a cartwheel. Then she did another, and another. Kyla, meanwhile, skipped circles around her (literally).

It was getting harder not to laugh.

Things started looking good for the cats, because there was a second bad kid as the third leg. He got up to Molly by the time Kyla and Nudge made it to the halfway point to Sy and Swift. Sy took the baton and put on short bursts of speed. Like, run ten feet, then stop to "rest" for thirty seconds. It took him a while to make it to D.J.

After Nudge turned her last cartwheel, she held out her baton to Swift, her face a radiant sun of childish happiness. He stared at the baton for a few moments, then backed up a step. Nudge blinked, confused, but then her mouth dropped (as did mine) when Swift fell foward and lifted himself up on his hands. He bent a knee and with a single taloned foot, picked the baton from Nudge's loose grip.

And then he started to walk around his part of the track. On his hands.

"Ho-ly _mother,_" D.J. said in wonder.

I chanced a glance at the flock dugout and, judging from the stunned looks, I guessed we weren't the only one taken aback by Swift's hand-walking skills.

Once he was just a few feet away, Swift stopped and teetered forward. His back curled instinctively and he did a somersault-like move to land seated right next to me. He grabbed the baton from his foot and handed it up to me as I laughed at the supervisor's expression.

"And why," he asked in a strained tone, "did you feel the need to do that?"

Swift paused to ponder it a moment. His face was really red from all the blood that'd rushed to his head, and his mouth was kinda twitchy, like he was trying not to smile. "I have delicate feet," he finally said.

I couldn't help it. I cracked up laughing, bending double and holding my sides for almost a full two minutes as I tried to get it under control. But I was sure, before I straightened up, to touch Swift's arm (like I had with everyone else I'd been near so far) for three quick seconds.

_Click._

The bracelets they'd snapped on us upon entering the building of the Director's office were the same model as the ones we'd had on the ship, the ones I was able to short out with my personal static shock. Apparently somebody (as in Sy) had conveniently neglected to alert the higher-ups of the fault.

"You're so funny!" I said as I got to my feet. Then, baton tight in my hand, I began to head for the finish line, taking two giant skips forward and one jump back the entire way. It was slow going on my part, giving Molly plenty of time to hop ahead of me on her left foot. By the time I got to the finish line, D.J. had backwards-skipped over it nearly six entire minutes prior. I jumped over the chalk line and held up my hands victoriously, awaiting applause, which nobody awarded me.

The man at the finish line looked beyond pissed. I looked at him expectantly, but in a very tight voice he said, "Just. . .go back to your quarters."

I crossed my arms and left in a huff. "Well fine!"

Ah, well. At least there was the swimming event next!

* * *

*i don't know if that's actually possible. maybe swift is just awesome that way or something. and guess what! there's actually a type of bird called "swift." it's a small dark bird with long narrow wings, related to the hummingbirds and resembling a swallow. the things you learn when you read the dictionary. . .

sorry it took me so long to update. i refuse to leave this story abandoned and unfinished, as was the fate of many of my other stories. i will finish this eventually!


	22. Chapter 22

bleh. writer's block. and other things.

(thanks to IceDragon19 for reminding me i actually have people still waiting.)

lieutenant fuzzytail, the flying raccoon of inspiration for this story, hasn't been very cooperative lately. he has been demoted to sergeant, and is also on probation.

disclaimer: don't own maximum ride

* * *

_**22. duh-nuh. . .duh-nuh. . .duh-nuh, duh-nuh, duh-nuh-duh-nuh-duh-nuh-duh-nuh DUH-DA-DAHHHH!**_

"That was _epic,_" Wave chuckled once us "runners" had returned to our dugouts. She slapped high-fives with Kyla, D.J., and Sy, ignoring all the curious and resentful looks from her evil comrades. "Can't wait till I go."

"You're doing strength," Kyla reminded her. "Swimming's next. Which means. . ."

"Nixie! Aliza! Janey!" Ariel snapped, standing up and flipping her hair. "Let's go." She started striding to the door, passing the runners as she went. When she passed Sy, she "accidentally" stomped one of her heels into his foot and hissed something at him that I couldn't hear. I was slightly proud to note that he barely flinched. I mean, I woulda took the bitch _down,_ man. He's just better than me at holding things in, I guess.

"Hey, so swimming's next?" the Gasman asked, having overheard the fish kids. "Can I go?"

"Sure," Max said. Then she looked up at the rest of us. "Anybody else?"

"I already called to do strength," Shadow said. "I don't feel like getting wet."

"Ah, what the heck," Iggy said, standing up from his spot on the bench. "I'll pretend to swim."

"Anybody else?" I looked around and saw no volunteers. "Oh, come on. We all have to do something, and me, Swift, Nudge, and Angel already ran. Two more people. Come on. Or must I spin around and randomly point at someone?"

When no one responded, I put a hand over my eyes and stuck the other out. I spun on my heel. "This person!"

I opened my eyes and found Con casually inspecting his fingernails. "No f*cking way."

"Oh, my God, just _go,_ you baby," Blaze said. "You don't even have to swim. We're supposed to fail, remember?"

"I don't want to."

Max groaned and grabbed the anti-flock leader's shirt. "Suck it up, Con, let's just go swim."

So, with Iggy and Gazzy leading the way, and with Max dragging along a reluctant Con, our delegates for the swimming competition trooped out onto the field, joining the fish kids and the cat kids by the side of an Olympic-size pool that had been previously hidden beneath the Director's viewing stage (the stage itself had been temporarily moved back).

Dicus talked out another little shpeal about how special we were, blah, blah, genetic mutations, blah, and the swimmers stripped down. There had been wetsuits in the closets of our rooms as well, so, in the spirit of not wanting to let them go to waste, we'd all put them on under our other Itex-issue clothes.

A grand total of two hybrids actually tried to stretch and warm up for the event, while the rest just milled around. Nixie and Aliza started chatting with the two older cat guys-they all looked around the same age, pre- to early-teen. I glanced over to the Director, who was carefully watching them. If she wasn't starting to catch on, then I was a four-foot-tall elf who talked with trees.

"Each member of the group will swim five laps," the Director said into her microphone, beginning to explain the event and forgoing the praise. "The quickest team shall win the event. First leg swimmers, on your mark!"

Ariel pushed the youngest fish girl, Janey, forward; Tony, the youngest cat, also went to the poolside. I watched Max and Con converse with each other before the Gasman went up for Team Bird-Kid.

Blaze came to stand beside me at the lip of the dugout, crossing her arms and resting them on the ground. "This should be good," she said, smirking in satisfaction.

"I don't know. Max is pretty un-creative," I joked. "Con seems so, too. I highly doubt they will be very entertaining."

"But that's the fun part," she told me. "They're so anti-fun it'll be fun to watch 'em squirm."

"Ooh. You're right." I grinned, straightening up a little. "I haven't actually seen Max try to be funny. Is she even capable of it?" I asked, turning to look back at the flock. Nudge and Angel giggled, and Fang just gave me a blank stare.

"Geez. I ask a question."

"These Americans," said a lofty, unfamiliar accent off to the right. I stood on tiptoe to look over Blaze's head and saw one of the foreign cats had gone up to the front of the dugout, just like we'd done. He was a big guy, built like Joey, only without some of the height. "They think they're so clever, fooling around as they are. But it will only end with their death."

"Ignore him," Blaze said, staring out over to the pool. "He's trying to provoke you."

"Who said he wasn't trying to provoke _you?_" I mumbled.

Before she could answer, a horn blared to start the race.

The Gasman ran forward and cannonballed into the pool, causing a ginormous splash. Some of the water barely hit Tony, and he screamed like a very girly puma before running back to the others. I cracked a smile as I watched the evil kid yelling at him, and chuckled when Eugene and Lenny physically picked Tony up and threw him into the water. Then they jumped in after him, teaming up with Gazzy to play chicken.

"Cats got it down," Blaze said, nodding in approval.

"Now, what about them fishies?" I mused, my eyes searching the stands.

Large TV screens were set up around the stadium, just like at a baseball game, so the stationed cameras could get close-ups on the games. One was diligently keeping track of the chicken game (as I watched Gazzy tumbled into the water), while another was focused on a single figure sitting at the bottom of the pool. There, little Janey was seated, cross-legged, not even phased to show off her fish tail, making faces at the camera and waving her hands over her head.

I glanced to the kids still out of the water, and saw Iggy had wandered over to the side of the pool and sat down so he could dangle his feet in the water. Ariel was practically screaming her head off at Nixie and Aliza, who were doing their best to ignore her and carry on with their own conversation. When she grew too much to handle, the pair of them ran and jumped wildly into the pool, joining their fellow fish-girl at the bottom. The three of them then commenced to playing some type of hand-slapping game that had them frequently cracking up laughing.

The evil cat boy, Ariel, and Max and Con were now the only ones left dry; multiple whitecoats had rushed out to the poolside, bearing clipboards and "not amused" expressions, and were desperately trying to get everyone to behave. That plan pretty much went out the window when Nixie oh-so-sneakily grabbed one man by the ankle and dragged him under. He surfaced and floundered about for a few minutes, spluttering, glasses only hanging on by one ear, and with all the kids laughing at him. Finally one of his collegues took pity and went to help him out-and that guy got it too, because Iggy just happened to be sitting there and chopped his hand into the back of the guy's knees.

It was all just so, so awesome. I was half-tempted to join them, and maybe push Con and Max into the pool. I would've, but believe it or not the chain fence that separated us mutants from one another extended around the front, too; they'd locked the dugout doors. Apparently they'd done that last event, too. But we'd prepared for that.

They say it's all fun and games until someone loses an eye. (Then it's hilarious.)

Our lost eye (which wasn't so hilarious) came in the form of Ariel and the evil cat kid, who finally got furious enough to leap in the water and go after their rouge teammates.

The fish girls scattered away from their bitchy leader, and I heard excited chatter from the crowd as the cameras finally caught a glimpse of some hybrids in action. I glanced to another giant TV screen, where the boys had quit playing chicken and were evading the bad felinthrope. It wasn't long before all hell broke loose.

I think it started when Gazzy almost got caught by the cat. Eugene came up behind him, grabbed Gazzy out of harm's way, and helped catapult him into the air. The Gasman flapped his wings and just ignored the Director when she screamed at him to "Get back down here right _NOW!_" Dicus, pissed, turned to her assistants on the stage and yelled for them to get the guards. In two seconds human security and Flyboys (man, hadn't seen them in a while) were swarming the field, maybe twenty, maybe fifty, all sprinting for the pool.

There was a laugh off to my right. I looked over and saw it was the guy who'd said our fooling around would only end in death. He started talking to his fellow foreigners and they laughed, too.

The guards had made it to the pool. Everyone who'd been in the water was forcefully yanked out and restrained. They struggled, but seemed to be having trouble. Even though we'd agreed to "cooperate," it looked like the Director had beefed up security just in case.

I kept waiting for someone to break free, for someone to overthrow their guard and turn the tables. But ten seconds, twenty seconds, thirty seconds went by and nothing happened.

". . .No," I mumbled, watching a Flyboy start walking towards the stage with little Janey in his grasp. She kicked and shrieked, but to no avail. "This isn't how the game is supposed to go."

"We have to do something," Blaze muttered beside me. "What should we do? What _can_ we do? We're stuck in here. Ah, f*ck, this sucks."

I thought about it for oh, maybe two seconds before I turned to her and smacked her upside the head.

She stumbled back, holding her head. She glared up at me, eyes flashing silver. "What the hell?"

"Hit me back," I dared her, gesturing to myself. "Go on, do it! I dare ya!"

"With pleasure," she snarled, and came up to shove me. But Fang stepped between us before she could get there.

"What're you guys doing?" he demanded. "They're getting their asses kicked out there!"

"I _know," _I said forcefully. "_This_ is the plan. Distraction." Then I shoved him, too, for good measure.

Blaze seized the opportunity right away and straight-armed me so hard I reeled back and bounced off the chain-link fence that was the wall of our quarters. My hands scrabbled at the metal and I shut my eyes.

Cries of surprise went out into the air as the fence-and everything metal that was touching it-became live with current. I heard an odd _whoosh_ and heat blew over me; I only assumed Blaze had thrown a fireball at somebody.

Almost as if they'd caught on, Nudge, Angel, and even Molly, I think, all started screaming; meanwhile, older kids kicked up a fuss and started fighting with each other.

It worked-we caught peoples' attention, and I saw the Director gesture towards the dugouts. Half the guards were dispatched to take care of us, ignoring their comrades as they continued to struggle with the rebelling swimmers.

Taking advantage of the distraction, Tony once again screeched, sounding eerily like a mountain lion. He squirmed around to rake his claws right over his guard's face; the man screamed and released him, falling back, his skin shredded and bleeding. The kid then ran and leaped onto the back of another guard, claws digging into the joints of the Flyboy's shoulders. Con managed to break free and spun around to deliver a swift kick to the robot's knees; it crumpled, and Tony ripped its head off for good measure.

They made short work of the humans after that, and though the Flyboys took a bit longer, eventually they, too, were defeated. In five minutes the flock was flying-but not before Con and Max had swooped over to the stage, grabbed up the Director, and dropped her into the pool from ten feet up. She screamed the whole way down, and in spite of the situation I just about died laughing. And the looks on Max and Con's faces! They just looked so smug, like, _See? We _can_ be fun._

As whitecoats ran to save the Director from the pool, our friends fled for the exit. Guards chased after them, and more were heading to the doors, intending to block them off.

_Now._

"Blaze, help me with this," I said, darting over to the bench where Iggy had been sitting before he'd left for the event. I dropped to my knees and stuck my hand under the bench-and on the floor, I found two impromptu bombs Iggy and the Gasman had cobbled together this morning, just in case things got sketchy. I grabbed them both and threw them at Blaze, who caught them in surprise. "Put 'em on the door and light 'em up!"

She cracked a smirk. "Got it."

"Everyone, it would be smart to duck and cover at this point," I said to the rest of the flock, and almost instantly they all stopped pretend-fighting and did as I advised.

_BOOOM!_

I looked up and saw the barred door was no more. In a second Swift was out, running to the cats' door to unlock it. Blaze was right after him, dashing over to release the fish-kids. Once the doors were open, the two of them took to the sky. The earth-bound mutants, on the other hand, were up and out in a flash. Although the three Egyptian cat hybrids and the two dark-side fish kids had mysteriously fallen unconscious (translation: they'd been knocked out), everyone made it out without a hitch. Sy and the fish kids dashed across the field so fast they overtook the others, dispatched the guards, and were out of sight before I'd even blinked twice.

Speedy little buggers, ain't they?

"Come on, guys, let's go!" Fang said, taking Angel's hand and pulling her along. Nudge and Avi were right behind them, and I grabbed onto a very reluctant Shadow and dragged him out behind me.

He tugged on my hand, trying to get me to let go, all the while having a hissy fit about it. "You don't have to hold my hand! I can get out by myself!"

"Fine!" I dropped his hand and gave him a push forward. "Now shut your face and get in the sky!"

Shadow threw me a dirty look, and then he actually _flipped me the bird_ before taking off.

That was one twisted little eight-year-old.

Joey and Frankie's gang were still running, but they were almost clear. Nobody was even close to catching them. The fish were gone, probably out on the streets of London by now (and most likely in a stolen car, too, if I knew Sy). The Director was only just now getting out of the pool, and first thing she did was look right at me.

I smiled mischeviously and waggled my fingers in a wave. Then I winked and whipped out my wings, jumping into the sky and flapping like there was no tomorrow.

I almost couldn't believe our luck. We'd planned, we'd executed, and it'd _worked._ All that was left was esca-

_Bang, bang, bang!_

"Shit!" A sliver of pain on my wing tip alerted me to the fact that one of the bullets had shot off some of my feathers. I flapped my wings harder and hollered out to the others, "Watch out, guys, they've got guns!"

"Oh, really?" Con yelled back sarcastically. "Because, like, we can't hear the shots, like, at all!"

"Dick!" I shouted, and the flock laughed.

More guns went off, but we evaded the bullets, and, as planned, we turned our backs on Itex and flew north, headed to God knew where.

* * *

We flew all day. We'd left England behind pretty early on, and all that was beneath us was choppy blue ocean. When it started getting dark, the little chiddlers started to give out; us older kids kept having to swoop down to wake them. At one point even _I_ felt my eyes sliding shut, and saw the water jump closer to me. But before I could crash and drown, someone grabbed a fistful of my shirt and yanked me back up, jolting me awake.

I looked up and saw Con. He frowned at me. "Please don't tell me you're that weak."

"I'm tired," I said defensively. "Unlike _some_ people, I actually _did_ stuff today."

He rolled his eyes before tilting off toward Shadow, who was dipping up and down in weird intervals. I shook my head and circled around towards Max, who was keeping an eye on Angel and Gazzy. She looked up as I neared, and for a second she smiled.

"I think the troops are worn out, General," I told her. "Might I suggest pitching camp? Once we're over land, that is?"

"Yeah, if we ever _get_ to land," she replied. "Let's start heading east, maybe we can hit Europe before we conk out and fall to the sea."

So we started changing direction, always on the lookout for land. In my mind I tried to track our flight, but other thoughts kept popping up and making my mental map go fuzzy.

We were free. The plan had worked. We were once again out of Itex's clutches, and most likely our friends were, too. I wondered idly where they were, and hoped they were all okay. Especially Sy. Ya know, it wasn't fair-all this stupid Itex shit kept screwing up all our lives, interfering with what was supposed to be happiness. Then again. . .I smirked. With luck, Itex wouldn't be messing with anybody anymore. I was preeetty sure we f*cked up their chances at continued funding, so they'd probably go under soon.

And thank God for that.

Someone called out, and I looked up. Land. We were all too beat to do anything but beeline toward it. It wasn't even near anyplace, but it was land. We swooped down toward the soft sandy beach and collapsed upon landing, falling almost straight asleep, flock and anti-flock, Us and Them, just too tired to do anything else. Too tired to bother with watch. Too tired to set up camp. Too tired to care whether or not we'd want to kill each other again in the morning.

* * *

dear god, i've updated!

very sorry about the wait. unplanned things came up.

so yeah. . .


	23. Chapter 23

my god! two updates within the same week! i haven't done that in months! pinch yourself, you must be dreaming. go on, do it. i'll know if you haven't.

disclaimer: don't own maximum ride.

* * *

_**23. the morning after**_

When the sunlight became too bright against his closed eyes, he opened them. And regretted it.

The sun was in the perfect position to blind him, so he tugged his arm out from where he'd folded it behind his head and dropped it across his face, shielding his eyes from the bright light. He breathed deeply, the salty scent of the ocean light on the air as, for what felt like the first time in a really long time, he completely relaxed.

He wasn't still tired. He didn't have a headache. His shoulders and side were a little sore, but he could ignore it with relative ease. The ground was soft underneath him, and the small breeze swinging in off the water cancelled out the intensity of the sun.

Overall, he felt pretty good.

That is, until something stirred at his side.

He took his arm from his face and lifted his head, looking down to his side.

When he saw the blond hair, his first thought was, _Shadow?_ But then he thought it wasn't the right color, and then he saw the braid.

Spark.

Always Spark.

His automatic instinct was to move away, and he carefully levered himself up on one elbow-the other arm was half beneath her head, but he could slither it out from under her easily. But then, just as he tried to move, a spasm of pain from his shoulders made him lie right back down again with a stifled groan. They _had_ flown for the majority of the day yesterday; it must've taken more out of him than he'd thought. The flight with the Flyboy guards beforehand hadn't helped much, either.

Spark stirred again, her back curling against his side. A weird tingle seemed to dance up his body.

He dropped his head back down on the sand, resigned to the fact that he was kinda stuck. He closed his eyes and tried to relax again, but couldn't. Not with _her_ there. At his side. Asleep. Touching him. Once again returning his thoughts to memories of the small span of years that represented the only time he'd ever really been happy as a child.

_Her laughter echoed in the hall as she raced ahead of him._

_Though, this was really no time to be laughing. They were running from the monsters in the maze-those giant hairy guys that howled like wolves. But laughing was what Spark did: no matter the situation, she could turn it around and make it funny. This time, she'd shot lightning through the floor, and the resulting yelps from the dog people had caused her to laugh._

_They'd gotten separated from Blaze and Swift a while ago. He knew they were all right; nothing could hurt them, any of them. They had Spark. If anybody hurt him, or Blaze, or Swift, she'd get back at the stupid jerk who'd done it. She'd always been there to protect them. She always _would_ be there._

_"Come on, Con, you're slowin' down!" she called back to him. "If ya don't hurry up I'm gonna beat ya!"_

_She darted around a corner, and he ran faster so he could catch up. He flew around the corner and she jumped out in front of him, crying, "Boo!"_

_He didn't stop in time, and they ran into each other. His head banged against hers as they crashed to the floor, but it didn't hurt too bad. Spark didn't seem hurt either, because she was laughing again as she rolled off of him. It was contagious-he started laughing, too. They sat there for a while, just laughing, only getting up when one of the dog guys caught up with them. He roared, raising his paws in an attempt to be scary, but it didn't work. They just stumbled to their feet and ran away, still laughing._

_"Let's race through the halls more when we're done, 'kay?" Spark said, looking back over her shoulder as they started heading for the exit. "And we'll run with Blazer and Swift, too, and whoever wins gets to pick what movie we watch tonight before we go to bed."_

_"Okay," he agreed, and she beamed. He liked it when she smiled, and liked it even more when she laughed._

He still liked it when she laughed. . .and he hated it. It brought up all those stupid memories, confused him to no end. It just. . .he never knew what to think about her anymore. He hated her, he didn't. She pissed him off, she saved the day. She screwed him over, she helped him out. It was just. . .it _sucked!_

And now that they were out? What the hell were they supposed to do _now?_ It wasn't like he and Blaze and the kids could just go back. And. . .well, it might not be so easy to just kill the flock anymore. Not even Spark.

Maybe it was time to give up on it all. Just head out, forget about it, never deal with her again. Go back to the States, and. . .get a job, have a life? Yeah, right. Like they'd be able to do anything _normal, _after _their_ upbringing. Maybe he'd ask Blaze what she thought they should do.

For now, though. . .he was stuck here, on this beach, with a frustratingly impossible girl sleeping at his side, surrounded by people he wasn't entirely sure he trusted.

Oh, the insanity of life.

* * *

"Hey. Spark. Get up already."

"Mmmmnnnnn." I shrugged the hand off, burying my face further into my sleeve. I could hardly remember being so comfy, and wasn't gonna let it end so soon. I curled up into a ball, unwilling to wake up.

The person trying to awaken me shook my shoulder. "Come on, wake up."

"Five more minutes. . ." I mumbled, jerking my shoulder away more forcefully this time.

"No." He smacked me upside the head-not hard enough to cause pain, but enough to deliver a little sting. "Now get up."

If I'd had a blanket, I would've pulled it up over my head in protest. "Oh, come _ooooooonnnn_," I groaned, hunching my shoulders and covering my head with my hands. "Leave me alone, you dick."

"_No_. Because five minutes turns into ten minutes, and then ten into twenty, and pretty soon it's noon and you're still brain-dead. So get the hell_ up_ already!"

There was a soft _shhh_ and something fine and granular pelted my head. I realized that he would keep pestering me until I at least sat upright, so with a long-suffering groan I pushed myself into a technically vertical position. I yawned, rubbing sleep from my eyes, too lazy to shake the sand out of my hair.

"It's for reasons like this why I hate you, you jackass," I informed him, stretching.

"Oh no, however will I go on with my life?" Con droned, incredibly sarcastic for having just woken up. (Or at least, I assumed he'd just woken up.) I glared at him and he leaned back on his hands, smirking. He nodded his head, adding, "Wake Blaze up, too, would ya?"

"Hm?" I looked to my left and found Blaze sprawled out near me on the sand. I stretched again, then reached over and shoved her shoulder. "Hey, wake up. If I have to be up this early you do too." I glanced around, saw pretty much everyone but us was still passed out, and looked over at Con suspiciously. "How early _is_ it, anyway?"

"I dunno," he said carelessly, flicking his head to get the hair out of his eyes. "Seven, maybe?"

I stared at him. "In the _morning?_ I thought you weren't a morning person, why the hell are we up this early!"

"Who said I wasn't a morning person?" he asked, his eyebrow quirking up.

"I did," Blaze interjected, finally sitting up. Yawning, she added, "She broke our clock yesterday, just like you always do."

"I do not always break my clock," he said defensively. "Sometimes I miss, and it just bounces on the floor."

I was surprised into laughing, but quickly stopped when I saw Shadow stir. Just because _we _were up at the buttcrack of dawn didn't mean the others had to suffer, too. I smiled a little to myself-that little kid was pretty cute when he was asleep. He was kinda like my own brother in that way. . .even if he'd flipped me off twelve hours or so ago, and even if he'd tried to kill me before, and even if he was, well, the spawn of Satan's evil kid brother.

_He's just had a tough life,_ the smart part of my brain said sagely. _You all have. Well, more so the others than you. You've only had it bad this past month or however long it's been. In fact, you're kind of a wimp compared to them. They've been through this shit their entire lives._

Sometimes, the smart part of my brain doubled as the bitchy part.

"So," I said aloud, silencing my brain. Both Con and Blaze looked at me and I shifted. "Um, what now?"

"Now," Con said, getting to his feet and brushing sand from his pants, "We scope out, try to figure out where the hell we landed. Stay on watch while Blaze and I scope out the area, see where we are."

"Oh, nu-uh," I said, just as Blaze said, "No way."

We looked at each other warily, and I held off as Blaze spoke first. "You're more tired than either of us, Con. You were practically carrying Shadow the last part."

"Yeah, and you weren't doing so well against that Flyboy until Tony attacked it," I added. Con opened his mouth to argue, but Blaze and I weren't gonna have it. She jumped in the air before he could get another word out and I winked at him, saying, "So be a good boy and stay here while the girls go make sure it's safe, mm-kay?"

I decided to ignore the fact that he flipped me the finger in reply.

Once in the air, Blaze and I soared back and forth along the beach, searching the coastline for any signs of civilization. It was a relatively short, barren stretch of sand, with tall cliffs behind it and the sea before it. I doubted anybody would drop by to disturb the flock while we were gone. Still, we didn't want to stray too far from the campsite, but after half an hour we'd spotted a teeny little town about ten miles away or so. So we decided to go shopping while we were up and out already.

"Max'll be pissed I left without waking her or Fang," I said as I landed lightly beside Blaze, just behind a large, warehouse-like store. She looked at me questioningly as she pulled on her Itex-issue jacket (yeah, we were gonna need a wardrobe upgrade) to hide her wings. "I mean, just leaving them under Con's watch like that. Perhaps I should have left a note in the form of twigs in the sand."

"It's not like Con'll do anything," she said flippantly, searching her pockets. "We're technically still on truce. Plus, it wouldn't benefit him. Not the way we are now."

Her words made sense; her actions, however, didn't. "Um, what are you looking for?"

"Dammit, I forgot they took it from me," she muttered. But then she sighed and started heading for the front of the building. I trotted after her and just caught up as she explained. "Newell gave us an account a couple years ago, so we could check in someplace and rest up after a long mission. Freaks took my card way back on the ship."

"Well, we can come up with something, have 'em run the numbers," I said. "Unless you _really_ feel like stealing something."

She chuckled. "If I do I'll let ya know."

I felt some funny looks when Blaze and I entered the Wal-Mart, but we overlooked most of them. They were only looking because we were wearing matching outfits. None of them knew who we were. None of them were trying to capture us.

. . .I didn't think.

Blaze yanked a cart from the line and slouched over the handlebar. We then started shuffling along the aisles, grabbing anything and everything our hearts desired (except for a box of Pocky, because Blaze decided to be a b about it). It was a mainly quiet adventure, with only the occasional mumble of a question here and there.

"Hmmm." I looked back and forth between the two sodas I was holding. "Is there a difference between Dr. Pepper and Dr. Thunder?"

"Ew, yeah. Dr. Thunder's disgusting." Blaze then checked herself, as if she didn't like that she'd started to become so familiar with me. "And, um, it gives Avi stomachaches. But what about Gatorade and Powerade?" She held up two of the giant-ass bottles of sports drinks. "Preference?"

"Definitely Gatorade. Wider range of flavor."

" 'Kay." Blaze dropped the Gatorade into the cart and placed the other bottle on a shelf as we rounded a corner. "Hey, does-" She stopped dead in the middle of the aisle and I turned around to look at her.

"What?"

She looked up at me. "What. The _hell._ Happened to your guys' dog?"

"What're you-" I began, but then it hit me.

Oh.

My.

God.

_Total._

Ho-ly _mother._ Back before we'd been kidnapped to the ship, Con and them had been chasing us, and they'd caught up, and Total had left. . .I'd told him to, hoping he'd go to get help. . .Oh, God, how the _hell_ did I forget about him? I was a horrible person! He was going to kill me! How'd I. . .what had I. . .what the. . .oh, God. . .

"Spark?" Blaze said, watching me warily. "You okay?"

"I need a phone," I said haltingly, gazing off into the pet aisle (which is how Blaze had thought of Total, I realized). "I-I-I have to make a call."

"I thought I saw a pay phone by the door," Blaze told me. "Why do you need it?"

"I-I totally forgot about Total," I stuttered, hardly able to believe myself. "When you guys were after us I had him leave, to get help. . .did you ever see him? In the forest, on the ship?"

She shook her head. "No. Con and Shadow went after you guys, I didn't see him after that."

"Do you think Itex got him?" I asked. "Like, those kids? Whitecoats?"

"Why are you freaking so much? He's just a dog."

"He is _not!_" I said loudly, attracting the curious glances of some innocent shoppers. "He's a part of the flock, and it's horrible that I haven't been freaking out about him! Here, pay for this crap, I'm gonna go make some calls." I left Blaze stranded between cat food and birdseed and hurried toward the store entrance, ignoring her confused question of "But who the _hell_ are you gonna call?"

I swung by the Starbucks stand and swiped a few quarters from the tip jar before locating the lonely payphone by the soda machines. I paused for a second to remember before dialing a number.

It rang three times before she picked up. "Hello?"

_Oh, crap._ What was I supposed to say? Maybe I should've thought this through more. . .But if he had to go anywhere, they were closer. . .

"Hello?" Max's mom repeated. "Is anyone there?"

"Oh, um, Dr. Martinez," I said. "It's Spark. Hi."

"Spark?" Her voice began to quicken in that "worried mom" way I recognized all too well. "A-are you all right? What happened to you? Where is everybody, where's Max? You were supposed to be here days ago!"

"We're, um, fine, Dr. M, really," I said in what I hoped was a reassuring tone. "We just. . .hit a little snag in the journey. We should be there soon, I promise."

"Spark, please don't lie to me," she said. _Damn._ Why did she have to know that we lied frequently? "Total arrived two days ago saying some other hybrids came after you!"

I breathed a huge sigh of relief. "Oh, God. He's safe? He's all right?"

"Well, yes, but he's exhausted," Dr. Martinez told me. "He said some other children like you were chasing you and he left to get help. What happened?"

"Dr. Martinez, you don't have to worry about us," I said calmly. "Those other kids aren't a problem anymore, and we'll be there as soon as we can. I'll tell you the story when we get there. I promise, we're all safe, and we'll _stay_ safe. Thanks, bye."

"But Spark-"

I hung up before she could get any farther. Yeah, I'm kind of a jerk sometimes, I know.

"The dog okay?"

I jumped about two feet in the air when I heard Blaze's voice. I looked over my shoulder and saw everything in the cart was now bagged, waiting for travel. I glimpsed two backpacks in there as well, so I could only assume Blaze expected to fit all the groceries into two packs. Yeah, like _that_ was going to happen easily.

I blinked and looked up at her. "Yes, actually," I replied. "_Total_ is fine."

She nodded. "That mean you're done?"

"Not quite," I said, turning back to the phone. I dropped the other quarter in and dialed another number. "One more thing."

"Just hurry the hell up," Blaze grumbled, shifting the cart out of the way and leaning against the wall.

I waved her off. "Da."

Ring, ring. _Come on, you jerk, pick up._ Ring, ring, rin-

"Adrian Monk Investigations."

"You fag," I said, my face breaking into a smile. "You know they only used that in one episode."

"Well, it's not like I knew it'd be you," Sy replied in his defense. "I had to be sure."

It was just so great to hear his voice; he was really okay. "I suppose I should be asking you something only you would know right about now, to make sure it's you."

"Technically, when we first met, I kidnapped you," Sy said. "The second time we met, I sprang you from an interrogation room in the Lab in Salt Lake. We had an epic escape, and then you ditched me. Any other questions?"

"You forgot we almost got arrested before I ditched you," I reminded him, snickering. "I find that to be a very important detail. I'm not exactly sure it's you."

"You once told me on a balcony that you thought the stars were fireflies, like they said in _The Lion King_. You seemed very upset to learn they weren't."

I laughed. "All right, it's you. How are you guys? Everyone okay?"

"More or less," Sy said. "Aqua's kinda ticked she didn't get to do her event, but physically. . ."

"Well, tell her I sincerely apologize that we didn't account for the Director jumping the gun," I said, rolling my eyes. Then I glanced at Blaze before turning slightly away from her. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Sy said, using the same lower tone I was using. You know the one: I'm talking to someone I actually want to talk to, so leave me the hell alone and quit eavesdropping. "We went for the coast, swam the Channel, and I think we found the Seine. We're somewhere in France now."

"Lucky," I groaned. "France must be sweet. We're in. . .um. . ." I took a quick glance around and saw a line of those metal boxes that hold newspapers. I was surprised when I recognized the language on most of the papers. "Oh, geez, we're in Norway. How the hell'd that happen?"

Blaze scoffed, and I glared at her as Sy said, "I assume you flew."

"Oh, really? You think so? Because in reality, I think we ran across the water, like twelve mutant Jesuses."

"That's amazing," Sy said sarcastically. "I didn't know you could do that."

"There's a lot you don't know about me."

This time Blaze groaned outright. "Oh, my _God,_ can you _please_ hurry it up?" she demanded. "As much fun as I'm having listening in on your shameless flirting, I'd like to get back to the others so I can puke amidst my loved ones."

"It's not flirting, it's witty banter," I said defensively. "Now f*ck off."

"Ooohh, Sy, your voice is just _so_ sexy," Blaze mocked, pitching her voice an octave higher. And she sounded _nothing_ like me, I assure you. "I think I'm going to say random shit just so I can hear you talk more, oohh. . ."

"Shut the f*ck up!" I snapped, aiming a kick at her. She dodged it, laughing at my irritation.

"Tell her I heard that," Sy said suddenly into the phone, "and that as much as she wants to hear my sexy voice she can just deal with not hearing it. I never liked her anyway."

I laughed. "All right, I'll tell her. And I should probably go now, before she gets cranky." I hesitated, glanced at Blaze, and added, "But, um. . .Ma vykray. Ahk jay. Zoverkamai."

(Despite our short time together, I'd picked up quite a lot of the flock's secret language stuff. I was practically semi-fluent already!)

(And yeah, like I'm gonna tell _you_ what I said. Top-secret mutant hybrid information, ya know. Can't just go around tellin' anybody.)

". . .I know," Sy said quietly. "I won't forget, Spark. I promise."

I smiled a little. "You better not, Fish Boy, or I'll hunt you down like a dog."

"But if I'm a fish, you can't exactly hunt me down like I'm a dog, can you?"

"_I'm_ the dog in the analogy, dumbass," I said, rolling my eyes.

"Ahh. . .But ya know, you're a bird, so you still can't-"

"Oh, just shut up already," I interrupted, and he laughed. "And, uh. . .well, bye, then, Sy. Don't forget."

"I won't," he promised. "Bye, Spark."

I hung up and let out a long breath. I usually hated talking on the phone, but this time it hadn't been so bad. Well, trying to beat around the bush with Dr. Martinez had been tough, but, as always, Sy had helped me loosen up. I was glad he was okay; his group, too. I wished there was a way to find out about Joey and Frankie, but they hadn't given me a number to call. But they were tough-I was almost ninety-four percent sure that they, too, were safe.

"Aw. That was just so sweet I may just vomit."

I jumped again at Blaze's timely interruption, whipping around to give her a dirty look. "Eavesdropper."

"Well, what'd you expect me to do?" she asked, shrugging. "Kindly take a tour around the checkout stands while you and him exchanged flowery exclamations of true love? Please."

I glared at her and snapped, "He told me to tell you to f*ck off."

Blaze scowled. "He did not."

"Well, maybe not in so many words, but he said he knows you think he's sexy, but you can just get over it because he never liked you anyway," I sneered with a smirk. Blaze bristled at the insult, her fists clenching and smoking.

"Bitch," she spat.

"Jealous," I taunted. The name-calling war then broke out, each exclamation louder than the last and attracting more weird looks from passerby.

"Dick."

"Bastard."

"Skankbag!"

"Assface!"

_"Douchebag!"_

_"Ho-biscuit!"_

Blaze stopped short, looking at me in confusion. "Did. . .did you just call me a ho-biscuit?"

". . .Yeah," I said, a little caught off-guard by the sudden change in conversational tempo. "And I'll do it again if you want. Ho-biscuit!"

Blaze continued to stare at me, and I glared back, waiting for her to insult me back. She never did, though; she just snorted, and for some reason I smiled, and then we were both just cracking up laughing, in the doorway of a Wal-Mart, with confused Norwegians giving us a wide berth and staring at us like the crazy Americans that we were.

* * *

"Where the heck were you guys?" Max demanded once Blaze and I landed back at base camp. "You've been gone for two hours!"

"Hey, that's not a nice way to greet somebody who brought you food," I said, shrugging off my backpack and dropping it to the ground. "And it sure as hell was _not_ two hours."

"Yeah, it was more like one," Blaze said, lowering her own pack to the sand. "And a half. Tops."

There was nobody at that beach but us-I attributed it to the fact that there was a large, jagged cliff barring the way down. Max, Fang, and Con had stayed up in the sand, far out of reach of the tide, while everyone else had taken to exploring. But that changed when Blaze and I came in sight again; they all started rushing inland, catching up as we touched down. The Gasman actually skidded to a stop, his feet kicking up sand and making it all fly everywhere.

"Did someone say food?" he asked excitedly. "Man, I'm so hungry I could eat a shark! What'd you get? Can I have some?"

Blaze snickered and nudged her pack with her foot. "We've got all kinds of food, kid. Help yourself."

"Awesome!"

Swift dug a hole in the sand with his feet as everybody else gathered driftwood. Once we had enough for a fire, Blaze made a finger-gun and shot a stream of flame toward the dry wood. (Iggy and Gazzy were quite impressed with her. I was not.) Then we all gathered around the fire and, as soon as it was hot enough to cook stuff, we continued the ongoing experiment of What Can Be Cooked On A Stick Over An Open Fire Yet Still Taste Good.

I won't bore you with all the different trials. But I'll just say that the list was rather long and extensive, with some of the more creative tests producing interesting results.

Con gagged and spat out a charred chunk of food he'd oh-so-stupidly accepted from me. I snickered and ducked as he threw a handful of sand my way. "Ya gots ta be more careful, Connie," I said tauntingly, holding up the Ziploc baggie of peels from the orange I'd just shared with Nudge. "Orange peel's edible, but super-gross. Especially cooked."

"I can't believe you fell for that," Iggy snorted, shaking his head. "_Everybody_ knows not to take food from Spark."

Needless to say, I'd pulled similar tricks on him, Fang, and Max multiple times. Lots of fun, eating with kids who aren't suspicious of all food that isn't theirs. (If you hang out with guys during school lunches, you know what I mean. They taint _everything_, just to see who'll eat it. Sometimes it's kinda funny, too.)

"Yeah, thanks for the heads-up," Con practically snarled, and Blaze nudged him with her foot.

"Ah, calm down," she said, smirking. "It _was _pretty funny."

He rolled his eyes and leaned back. "Yeah, sure. Let's see _you_ eat it."

"Hell no, I'm not you. I'm _smart_."

"Oh, right. Like _I'm_ the one who thought opening a pop while flying was a good idea."

"Hey!" Blaze picked up a handful of sand and chucked it at Con while the rest of us broke out into snickers. Shadow especially was loud, which caused Con to glance his way. His eyes narrowed as he saw what Shadow was holding, and reached over to take it.

"Uh, no. Not for you," Con said, grabbing and holding a soda can out of reach. Shadow didn't seem to want to stand for it, and promptly kicked up a fuss.

"Hey! Give that back!" he shouted, leaping up and reaching for the can of soda. Con just batted him away, ignoring the fact that we (as in the flock) were all staring. After a few moments' struggle, Con just tossed the can over the fire at Swift, who caught it and pinned it to the ground beneath one lethal, taloned foot. Looking pissed, Shadow rounded on Con and glared at him.

_"Con!"_ Shadow yelled. "That's not _fair!_ Give it _back!_"

I was rather astounded by Shadow's incessant brattiness, but Con didn't seem to notice. All he did was ask, "Is it afternoon?"

Shadow's fists clenched at his sides. "It is in Singapore!"

(Don't ask me how he knew that.)

"We're not _in_ Singapore." Con reached into the bag between him and Blaze and grabbed something; he shoved a blue Gatorade at Shadow's chest, and the little blond boy took it instinctively. "No pop."

"But. . .but. . .but Spark's drinking it!" Shadow sputtered. "And so is everybody else!"

"I do not care about Spark," Con said emotionlessly. "She's older and a dumbass."

I choked on, yes, my soda, and nearly coughed up a lung. While the others laughed, I managed to exclaim, "Hey!"

"You're still a kid," Con told Shadow, ignoring me. "And the last thing I need is for you to be jumping around all day on a sugar-rush. And Angel's not drinking it, look." He gestured over to her.

Shadow scowled, then sat down in an angry huff, shoving his Gatorade forcefully at the sand. It was kinda weird seeing him act so childish; but then again, I kept forgetting that he was only eight years old. Well, eight and a _half_.

"Hey, Max, can we go swimming?" Angel suddenly asked, turning to Max and tugging on her sleeve. "We have swimsuits, and the water's right there. Plus, I didn't get to at the conference thing."

Max looked a little surprised, but said, "Uh, sure, Angel, go ahead."

"Yay!" Angel smiled and sprang to her feet. She ran around the fire to Shadow and grabbed up his hand. "Come on, Shadow, let's go!"

"What? Why?" He resisted, but Angel pulled him up and started dragging him towards the ocean. "Let go, I don't wanna!"

_I get it,_ I thought as it hit me. She'd probably read his mind, and saw that he was either sad, or just really pissed. And she wanted to make him feel better. Huh. Children surprise me sometimes.

"Aw," I said, smiling as I watched Shadow break free from Angel. He started running back our way, but she ran after him and tackled him to the ground. She then started dragging him back to the water-literally. She had him by both ankles and was dragging him through the sand like he was just one very squirmy bag of potatoes. "The first domineering relationship of childhood. How cute."

Shadow writhed and lashed out with his foot; the kick connected with Angel's hand and she fell back with a yelp. He scrambled up, tripped, and then Angel kicked him back. And while he was down, she threw sand at his face.

Con snorted. "Somehow I don't think it'll end well."

"Yeah, I kinda doubt it now," I agreed. They were practically beating each other up, for Pete's sake. Not that anybody but Max felt obliged to actually get up to go break it up. "Forget I said anything."

"Always do," Con said, and the guys laughed.

I sent him a dirty look. "Ho-biscuit."

"Excuse me?" he said, looking beyond confused.

Blaze just cracked up laughing.

* * *

this seemed like a rather pointless chapter. just random flock/anti-flock fun, really. . .but hey, it's an update. be happy you got it :P

with luck, relevant stuff will happen next time, and we'll actually be going somewhere with this story again. fingers crossed, people.

oh, and btw, new poll on my profile. just so ya know.

happy holidays!


	24. Chapter 24

i love road trips! X) for some reason they always grant me such inspiration for spark's ventures through life.

disclaimer: don't own maximum ride. if i did it would've turned out better.

kidding!

(kinda.)

* * *

_**24. a better tomorrow**_

You know those days where you literally do nothing productive? Where you just shuffle around the house, watching reruns you've seen a thousand times, munching on snacks, existing in a state of perpetual laziness?

This was one of those days. The entire day, we did nothing. Just chilled at the beach, and. . .uh. . .that was it. Nudge, Angel, and Gazzy went and played in the water every once in a while, and sometimes Shadow joined them; Blaze walked around the perimeter of the beach, with Iggy following her, annoying her every chance he got; and Swift and Avi followed Blaze and Iggy, at a slower pace, hands suspiciously close together. Max and Fang were off in their own little world, sometimes circling the beach from the air like vultures, sometimes just sitting apart from the rest of us.

I sighed, laying down on my back and folding my arms beneath my head. "I wish we had some business cards."

"Wind would mess with the throws," Con said from just a few feet to my left. He dug a rock out of the sand and chucked it toward the water. I lifted my head to watch it fly, and it fell just short of the incoming waves, over thirty yards away.

"Really? That's as far as you can throw? That's pathetic," I chided, propping myself up on my elbows. Then I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, waiting.

Con scoffed. "I wasn't _trying,_" he said, rolling his eyes. Ah, the age-old excuse. I smirked.

"Bet I can throw farther than you can," I said, sitting up and looking around for a rock.

"You can not," he challenged, handing me a stone. I grabbed it up, drew my arm back, and threw it as hard as I could. We watched it arc through the air and bounce twice on the sand, falling just short of Con's projectile.

"Damn," I cursed, frowning.

"Ha. See? You can't throw farther than me," Con said cockily.

"Ah, I wasn't tryin'," I said, glancing around for another rock. I twisted around and spotted one a couple feet behind me. Scrambling up, I called back, "Let's go again. I'll make it hit the water this time."

"Fine," he replied. "I'll still throw farther."

I snatched a rock, and picked up another, just in case. Then I began to run, hurling one of the rocks once I got to the place where we'd been sitting. The pebble flew over the beach, skipping over the water three times before finally sinking into the waves.

"Ha!" I turned triumphantly to Con. "See? Way farther than yours."

Con scoffed, shaking his head. "No way. You had the momentum of running working for that one. Doesn't count."

"It so counts!" I exclaimed. But he just kept shaking his head, so I groaned and rolled my eyes. "Fine. You run, then."

He smirked, then backed up. He took the same running start, and threw.

It, too, landed in the ocean, but I hesitated. "Wait, was that farther than mine? I forgot where it landed."

"Oh, my God. That was your only job. How the _hell_ could you not know where it landed?"

"Ah, shut up." I tossed my second stone in the air and caught it again. "Let's just go again. No running starts."

"Fine."

And so that's how _we_ decided to pass the time. Throwing rocks into the sea. We soon ran out of material in our area, though, and had to migrate. There were actually quite a few small, smooth stones embedded in the sand, and remember-we'd once passed an hour throwing cards at shoes. This was plenty to keep us entertained for a pretty long time.

But, as every game is wont to do, it eventually became tedious, and a little boring. And so small talk was interspersed throughout the throwing of rocks.

"So what's the deal with the arms?" Con asked, nodding at my arm as I threw another rock. I flinched as it almost hit a low-flying seagull, but the bird managed to dodge it, squawking loudly. "Been meaning to ask."

I glanced at him. "Don't you guys talk to each other?" I asked, nervously scratching at my wrist. I winced as my fingernails caught at the scab-like mark embedded in my skin. "I told Avi, go ask her."

He let out an irritated sigh and rolled his eyes. "How about _you_ tell me, because we're both right here and I don't want to have to walk all the way across the beach to where she is." He followed up by throwing another rock at the water.

"Lazy," I grumbled.

"Just tell me."

"I stuck a knife in a light socket, okay?" I said dully, rolling my eyes. "And I redirected the electricity. That's it."

He blinked and his gray eyes widened slightly, his expression shifting from mild curiosity to mild surprise. "When was this?"

"Back in Salt Lake," I said, bending down to pick up another rock. "Sy and I were bustin' out, and they sent Flyboys after us. I shorted them out, Sy jacked his mom's car, and we lit out. Didn't look back." I smiled a little at the memory-it hadn't exactly been barrels of fun at the time, but I always liked remembering that night. A lot of interesting stuff had happened, and that had been the night I'd met Sy. Really met him, I mean. Technically he'd kidnapped me first time we met, but you know. Details.

"I don't get that," Con said, shaking his head.

"Don't get what?"

"Dyl-um, Sy." He glanced at me, but I didn't glare-he'd caught himself before saying the D name, so he was fine. Con went on. "He always worked for his mom, did everything he was told to do, and did it perfectly. Then you come along and he just ditches. He didn't even know you."

"I'm just a game-changer, I guess," I said, throwing my rock. "I'm not entirely sure why he did it either. He said that night he felt like you guys had tricked him into getting me for you, and he didn't like it, so he left. And he took me with."

"We didn't _trick_ him into doing anything," Con replied, rolling his eyes. "We just told him we needed you back."

"Oh, and the fact that you needed me for questioning and-slash-or torture practice just slipped your mind?" I demanded.

"It was irrelevant," he said loftily. My fist clenched at his tone. "All he needed to know was that I wanted you, and that he had to do what I said. What I intended to do with you shouldn't have mattered to him."

"Yeah, well, it did," I said back rather forcefully. I chucked another rock as hard as I could; it smashed against a boulder jutting up from the sea, shattering into three pieces. To myself, I muttered, "And I'm glad it did, too."

"Why?"

I gave a little start, having not realized he'd heard me. "Hm?"

Con shrugged and folded his hands behind his head. "Well, think about it. If he hadn't escaped with you, Max and them would've come after you, we would've captured them, and none of this would've happened."

"What _this?_" I asked, confused.

"This," said Con, waving an arm in a vague gesture. "Us, here. London, the boat. Even Chicago. If D-Sy hadn't messed things up, we wouldn't be here."

"And who said all that stuff was a mistake?" I said, coming to a stop and staring at Con. He just looked at me, and I frowned. "Now that I think about it, I, for one, am _glad_ all that stuff happened. I'm glad Sy _messed things up,_ because in the greater scheme of things it led to us ending Itex. Say what you want about him, but Sy played a huge part in all this. He changed the game. And he made it more fun in the process."

_"Fun?"_ Con let out a humorless laugh. "You're saying you've been having _fun_ while running for your life these past couple weeks?"

I smirked, then found another rock and tossed it in my hand. "Hell yeah, buddy." I turned, hurling my stone as I did so-it flew way farther than any of the others I'd thrown, and I smiled satisfactorily. _Nice._ "Most fun I've had my whole entire life."

And it was true. My whole life back with my human family had been boring. Don't get me wrong, I loved them, and I still do, but. . .the high points of my week with them had been the latest episodes of various crime and medical dramas. Hiding my wings, using only a tiny bit of my brain to get through school, flitting from friend to friend and hobby to hobby as I learned the secrets, mastered the game, and got bored. I coasted through life week after week, just. . ._waiting_ for something to happen. Waiting for something to change, for something better to come along. Waiting for a better tomorrow.

"-ocks."

I blinked, Con's voice bringing me back to the present. "What?"

"We're out of rocks," he said again, and kicked at the sand. "Go find some more."

"You."

"I'm not finding them all by myself," he said flatly. "You have to help."

"Fine. Bet I can find ten before you can!" I challenged, already rushing off to find rocks.

I faintly heard him ask, "Why is it always a competition with you?" I turned so I could talk as I ran away from him.

" 'Cuz when I'm with a bird kid it's not always certain that I'll win," I called. Con just tolled his eyes and waved me away, heading in the opposite direction as he searched for rocks to throw.

With the Ackerlys, I was always waiting for a better tomorrow.

But here, with Max and the flock and even Con and the anti-flock, tomorrow wasn't always a sure thing. So I couldn't wait for a better tomorrow. I had to do something to make for a better today.

And _that_ was what I was having so much fun doing.

"Hey, watch it!"

I jumped and skidded to a stop-just in time, too. If I'd kept running I would've run headlong into Blaze. She jerked out of the way as I kicked up sand and glared down at me like I'd just killed her pet puppy or something.

"Uh, hi," I said rather breathlessly. I glanced around. "I see you've, uh, shaken Iggy. What's up?"

"What the _hell_ are you doing?" she asked me incredulously.

"Gathering rocks to throw," I answered simply. Speaking of, I saw some hiding just behind her feet. I walked around her and dug them out. "Why? What're you doin'?"

"Trying to think of what we're doing here," she mumbled, probably more to herself than me.

I straightened up, dropping my rocks into my pocket. "Hm." I put one hand on my chin and propped my elbow in the other, assuming a Pooh-bear "think, think, think" expression. "Well, right now, Con and I are gathering rocks, and the kids are out playing in the water, and you're just walking around aimlessly. . ."

"I _meant_ I'm trying to figure out what we're supposed to do now," Blaze snapped. "You know, _us._ Me, Con, the kids."

". . .Ah. Well, you could always, um, join the circus," I suggested. "They have some fun ones in Russia, I think. Or you could get jobs in a freak show. But I think you would have more fun in a circus. You could totally be the world's best fire-eater. Fire-breather. Whichever you want, really."

To my surprise, Blaze actually gave a wry smile. "No circus," she said. Then the smile faded, and her eyes fell to the sand. "But. . .I just don't know."

A frown pulled at my mouth, but I shook it off and tried for an upbeat tone. "You'll figure it out. If _I_ can get by on ninety percent class and ten percent bullshit, you can too. I'm sure of it."

Blaze snickered and said, "I think you have those percentages reversed."

"Hey!"

She laughed outright, and I managed to smile.

"Ya know, I really don't know what we're gonna do about you, kid," she told me.

"What d'you mean?" I asked. "I thought your guys' plan was to kill me, pay me back for pretty much fucking up your lives."

"If that was still the plan we would've killed you already," Blaze replied dryly. She shrugged. "I don't know what the plan is anymore. I've reached the point where I just want to leave and never see your face again. I'm fine with you living, just so long as you're not living anywhere near us."

"Gee, thanks," I said sarcastically. I paused. "But what about Con?"

She shrugged again. "I don't think he wants to kill you anymore, but I do know he's really, _really_ confused about the other options."

"Oh," I said, for lack of anything else to say. Luckily, I didn't have to despair over my lack of wordage for long, as Max decided to give a loud, shrill whistle. Blaze looked up and I turned around: Max was with Fang back at the original crash site from last night, and Max was waving an arm in the air.

"Hey, everybody! Get over here!" she yelled. "Family meeting!"

"Does that include me?" Blaze said, sounding confused.

"Guess so," I said when I saw Avi, Swift, and even Shadow joining the flock in their migration back to Max. "Come on."

As we jogged back to the campsite, I noticed the sun was much closer to the horizon than I remembered it being. Had Con and I really spent all day throwing rocks? It hadn't felt like that long. I guess time really flew when you were chucking rocks at water with your arch-nemesis.

"Okay, guys," said Max once the last of us (Con) had rejoined the circle around the once-again-burning fire. "I think it's about time we figured this thing out."

I raised my hand.

Max rolled her eyes. "What, Spark?"

"What thing is it that we need to figure out?" I asked curiously. Iggy snickered, and I think even Blaze cracked a smirk.

Max frowned and decided to ignore me. Turning to the rest of the flock, she asked, "How long are we planning on staying here? I mean, I'm sure we're all appreciating the chance to relax and all, but. . ."

"It's only been a day," Nudge pointed out.

"Yeah, well, a day seems like a lifetime now," Max said firmly. "We were supposed to be somewhere by September tenth. Anybody got any idea what day it is?"

I backtracked through my brain, counting the days of my internal calendar from September first, the last day we'd been in civilization. One, two, three, four. . .

I winced as a picture, a memory, flashed across my inner eye. A document, with a name, and a date: 09/09/91.

_Oh-nine, oh-nine, nine-one. Oh-nine, oh-nine, nine-one. It's lots of nines, isn't it? Oh-nine, oh-nine, nine-one. Oh-nine, oh-nine, nine-one._

"Happy birthday, Con!"

Everybody turned to stare at Angel, who was beaming over at the eldest bird-kid in the area. He stared at her, too. "Excuse me?"

"Happy birthday," Angel repeated. "Today's your birthday, right? If it's the ninth. You're seventeen!"

Con's eyes narrowed slightly. "It's not the ninth."

"Yeah it is," she said. "Spark just figured it out, and then she remembered it was your birthday. I read her mind."

All eyes slid over to me, and I felt my face heat up. "What? I wasn't thinking about it. I was just counting the days, and then. . ."

"Oh-nine, oh-nine, nine-one," Angel interrupted. "That's Con's birthday. You were thinking it."

"Well. . ._yeah,_ but I didn't know that," I said, shifting uncomfortably. "I've been getting a whole bunch of memories back lately, I can't keep track of them all."

". . .Huh," Gazzy said suddenly. "She's right." We all glanced his way and he held up a newspaper Blaze had grabbed on our way out from Wal-Mart that morning. "It's the ninth. See? It says so on the paper."

"Oh, God," Con grumbled, dropping his head into his hand.

"That's a rather odd reaction to figuring out it's your birthday," I noted.

"Con doesn't _like_ birthdays," Blaze said, putting a bit of a teasing sneer on it. "They're _stupid._"

"Age is _just a number,_" Avi said, surprisingly mirroring Blaze's tone. "It doesn't _mean_ anything."

Then Swift, too, put his bit in. "So the Earth has gone around the Sun a whole 'nother fucking time. Whoop-de-fucking-doo."

"It doesn't matter 'cuz I could die tomorrow," Shadow mocked.

"So quit saying happy fucking birthday!" they all said in unison, and as Con glared at them they broke down into laughter. It was an odd sound, because it wasn't maniacal or cruel. They were all genuinely entertained.

"So I take it you're not a birthday person," Fang said mildly.

"One year," he growled. "_One_ year I actually voice my opinion, and they never let me live it down. I _hate_ birthdays."

"Birthday stuff aside, we need to figure out what it is we want to do," Max said decisively. "Where are we, anyway?"

"Norway," I informed her. "Saw papers while we were out."

"Not all you did," Blaze said lightly.

I tossed a fistful of sand at her. "Can it!"

"What does she mean?" Max asked, looking over at me with that annoyingly familiar look in her eye. It was the look she gave me when she wanted to know something and did _not_ want any beating around the bush.

"Exactly what does 'ma vykray, ahk jay, zoverkamai' mean?" Blaze asked, tilting her head, her tone innocently curious.

God I hated her.

"Where'd you. . .Spark, what the _hell_ did you do?" Max cried.

"Nothing!" I exclaimed. "I just. . .made some calls on a pay phone."

"And who did you tell to remember to go to your house in three days?" Iggy asked, cracking open a can of soda. I sent a glare his way, pissed to no end that it was useless. Sometimes, it's just plain inconvenient that the kid is blind.

"Ooooh, so it's a hook-up," Blaze said, a smirk curling her lips. "Kinky."

Iggy actually spat out some of his drink in laughter as I practically shrieked at Blaze to _"Shut the hell up!"_

Max's face shut down. "So you called Sy," she said coolly.

"Why d'you. . .Oh, my God." I dropped my head into my hands and waited until I was a bit calmer before I spoke again. "That's not the call that matters," I said, my voice slightly muffled by my palms. "I called your mom, too, Max, to make sure Total was okay."

It got really quiet, until Iggy said, "Oh, dear God, we forgot about Total."

"I didn't forget," Angel piped up. "Spark sent him to get help, and I knew he got away. He went to Florida, where Max's mom was going, right?"

"Um, right," I said, nodding. "Anyway, I remembered while we were in the store, so I went and called to make sure he was okay. I told Dr. Martinez we were fine, and that we were on our way. Total's fine. And we need to find a way to get to Florida."

Max gave me a hard look, and I blinked. "What?"

"Since when do you get to decide that we can trust these guys with our plans?" she hissed, gesturing to the anti-flock.

"I. . .I didn't," I said, confused. "I was just. . .well, I didn't think they would care." She didn't look convinced, and I rolled my eyes. "Look, if they wanted to kill us, they'd've done it already."

"You sure about that?" Con asked.

"Quite sure, birthday boy," I replied.

"Shut up!"

"Besides, it's not like they have guns or anything to overpower us with," I went on. "We could probably shake them if we wanted."

"Is that what we want, though?"

It got really quiet again as everyone turned to look at Avi. She shifted, nervously picking at her nails.

"Well, it seems like we can get along just fine, if we want," she said reasonably. "Hell, we helped you guys screw over Itex, it's not like we can just go back. If you want an apology, then I'm sorry we tried to kill you. We-er, _I_, at least, was forced to."

Blaze mumbled something about following orders, but no one took much notice.

"As far as I'm aware, we don't have a plan," Avi said bluntly. "Apparently, you guys do. And. . .we're all the same, really. Would it really be so bad if we stuck together?"

That set us thinking. Everyone kinda glanced around at each other, all thinking the same thing.

What if the anti-flock_ did_ become our friends? What if we were able to just let go of the fact that we'd previously been enemies, and accepted each other as allies? How would we all function as a giant super-flock? Would Con give up leadership responsibilities to Max? Or would they be, like, co-leaders? I wasn't sure if Fang would accept that-or Blaze. I'm sure the little kids would be a little wary at first, but would adjust pretty quickly, as kids are wont to do. Iggy, I had no idea. He'd probably get used to it with time. And me. . .could I just forget that the anti-flock had tried to kill me in the past? Like, a hundred thousand times? And beaten me up so severely I'd passed out for days on end? And could _they_ _finally _forget I'd "betrayed" them by running away ten years ago?

After about a minute, Con stood up. "Yeah," he said. "It _would_ be that bad." Then he turned away from the fire pit, running a hand through his hair. "Guys, pack up. There's no reason to stay here, so we're leaving tomorrow. Got it?"

Swift and Avi looked at each other, and Shadow just looked confused. Blaze rolled her eyes, and the flock just carefully avoided looking at the others. Con started meandering away down the beach, and looked like he had no intention of coming back anytime soon.

I waited for a few seconds, but when none of the anti-flock made any move to go after him, I got up, cursing myself for what I was about to do. _Son of a bitch._

I ran after the leader of my ex-family, calling out, "Hey, Con!"

He slowed to a stop near a large boulder that had probably fallen from the cliffside centuries ago and turned. "What?"

It really was starting to get dark pretty fast. I glanced around for the sun, but it had disappeared behind the cliffs, casting our beach in shadow. I increased my speed and soon caught up to Con, who just looked down at me with skeptical gray eyes.

"What Avi said holds water," I said, as sincere as I could make it without him thinking I was being sarcastic. I hesitated for a millisecond, fretting over the hell Max would put me through if she knew _this_ was what I was doing. "Why don't you just. . .stay?"

One of Con's eyebrows quirked, disappearing beneath the fringe of his jet-black hair. "Why should I?"

I shifted, shrugging. "Well, none of us have anywhere else to go, so. . ." I trailed off lamely, and Con smirked, leaning back against the rock.

"If you want to be with us so bad, then just come with us tomorrow," he said.

My mind blanked out for a second as I tried to process the words. ". . .What?"

"Come with us," he repeated. "Ditch these guys and fly our way for a while."

I stared at him, unwilling to believe that he could even possibly be serious. "You've gotta be kidding."

He just shrugged. "You just said Avi's idea had merit. I'm offering you a variation of that."

_He's actually serious,_ I thought. I almost couldn't believe it. But no. . .he wasn't joking. I was sure of that now. Con might've been a hard person to read, but for some reason I had a feeling that he wouldn't lie to me. He wouldn't offer this if he was just yanking my chain.

I looked down at his feet, randomly noticing that they were really frickin' big. What is it with guys and big feet? Sy had them too, and so did Fang and Iggy, probably. I'd have to check on theirs, though.

"Con," I said quietly. "You know that no matter what you say or do, I won't go with you or the anti-flock. I'm going to stay with Max."

"Is that right?" he asked softly. He pushed off the rock and took a step closer to me, and though I would've given anything to step back, I refused to do it. I would not let him think he could intimidate me.

"And for how long, Spark?" he said, still in that same soft, quiet voice. "I know from experience that you never stay with anybody for too long, no matter what you've promised them."

"Why do you have to keep bringing that up?" I hissed at him. I didn't know why I was trying to be quiet; nobody was around but the flock, and they probably couldn't see us anymore, let alone hear us clearly. And it wasn't like it was the middle of the night, either, and I was in fear of waking somebody up. And yet I continued to whisper-yell as if there was a sleeping baby lying just on the other side of this big-ass rock we were standing by. "I _get_ it, okay? I ran away from you and pretty much fucked up your life. I'm sorry. But what's done is done. It happened ten years ago. I was a kid."

"You're _still_ a kid," he told me. As if I'd forgotten. "A kid without parents, without a family, and without responsibilities. You don't owe Max anything."

"I don't owe _you_ anything either, Con," I retorted, getting more pissed off by the second. "And as a matter of fact, I _do_ have parents, and I _do_ have a family. They're back waiting for me. It's _them_ that I owe."

"You can't go back to them, you know that. Not after what Itex did to make sure you stayed in their game." He scoffed. "Like you'd even be able to handle being told what to do again."

"Well then what am I supposed to do?" I asked, throwing my hands in the air. "Just run around, live on the streets 'till I'm old enough to get a job and live on my own? I've barely been doing it for a month already and I feel like I've had enough of this stupid runaway shit! I mean, I've been _kidnapped, tortured, tested, shot at, nearly killed,_ all in less time than it takes to make it through Lent! So, yeah, I'd like my normal life back, please! Even if it means school, and homework, and chores, and parents telling me what to do, and siblings annoying the living crap out of me, and everything else that goes with it! I want it all _back._"

Con straightened up, looking down at me with narrowed eyes. "Well. As much as I _hate_ to burst your pretty little bubble, you'll _never_ have a 'normal' life ever again."

"Fuck you."

"You think you could just go back like nothing's different?" he asked. "You think you haven't changed since we started chasing you? Or even since we busted up Itex, for that matter?" Con chuckled, shaking his head. "No, Spark. The perfect little angel girl you used to be with the humans is long gone. You're different now. Trust me."

"And you know this. . ._how?_"

"Well, because compared to how you were in Salt Lake, you're. . .stronger. Tougher."

"Is that right?" I said, half-smiling. _He is such a bullshitter._

"Uh-huh. Back then I doubt you would've _ever_ come up with that. . ._plan_ to get Dy-er, Sy back."

Good Lord. He _really_ had to go back and bring _that_ up? My jaw clenched as I felt my collar heat up.

"Don't you think the fact that _you_ brought that up says more about you than it does about me?" I demanded.

"Maybe. Or maybe you're unaware of the fact that you just got all nervous because I brought it up," he replied snarkily.

"I don't get _nervous_, I get _annoyed,_" I snapped, probably sounding defensive. "I wish it'd never happened, I wish we'd come up with some other way!"

"Didn't seem like you felt that way back in the cell," he observed.

That did it. I shoved Con in the chest, hard, making him stagger back into the giant boulder. "Don't you even _think_ about thinking that I actually _liked_ that, you stupid little-"

I didn't get much farther than that, because some evil, life-ruining demon from hell decided to momentarily possess Con and cause him to grab me by the wrist, drag me close, and _kiss me._

I tried to get out of it, beating every part of him I could reach, but he held tight. It was then that I realized he wasn't magically possessed by some evil, life-ruining demon from hell. As interesting as that would be for the story, it's not what really happened.

No. Con was kissing me _because he wanted to._

And flip-fliggerin' _flip_, man. I'd always thought he hated me too much. I never would've guessed that he'd ever _willingly kiss_ me. (I never would've guessed that I could make up such an odd curse-word, either. If "flip-fliggerin' flip" can even be considered one, at least.)

Having been taken by surprise by this epiphany (BIG understatement), I kinda just stood there for a second. But then I came to my senses and put my hands on his shoulders before jerking my knee up as hard as I could.

_That_ made him stop. Con backed up, hunched over pain, swearing a blue streak under his breath. But I wasn't done with him yet.

_"Fucking asshole!"_ I spat venomously, bending my arm. I grabbed my wrist and cracked my elbow down on the back of his head; he dropped to his knees, hands now clutched around the back of his skull.

"God. . ._fuck_ it, Spark!" he swore, voice slightly muffled due to the fact he was speaking to the ground. "That hurt!"

"It was supposed to, you jackass!" I snapped, kicking him for good measure. He grunted in pain, but then he grabbed my ankles and yanked. I overbalanced and fell heavily to the ground, cracking my head on a rock buried in the sand.

"Shit!" I cussed, my hand flying to my head. I didn't get a chance to feel for an injury right away, though, because next thing I knew my wrists were pinned to the ground and Con was leaning over me, glaring at me like I'd. . .well, done what I did.

"Get the fuck off me," I snarled. When he didn't move, I stiffened, my hands curling into fists. "Con, I'm warning you. . .!"

"Let me just make one thing clear to you, okay?" he said evenly. "Just one thing, Spark, and then I'll leave you alone."

I tugged at his hands, but they didn't budge. Resigned to the fact that I was momentarily trapped, I gave in. "What?"

He leaned down close to whisper in my ear.

"I've changed, too," he said, his breath stirring my hair and making it tickle at my neck. "A month ago I never would've even thought about doing that." He chuckled. "Though, even now I probably should have expected that reaction."

"Just say what you wanted to say and get the hell off me, faggot," I growled.

And so he went on, still speaking directly into my ear. "Twelve years ago, a little blond girl saved my life. And ten years ago, she ran away from me."

My fists were clenched so tight I could feel my fingernails digging into the skin on my palms. And it hurt, too, so much it was making my eyes sting.

"A month ago I found her again, and a few days ago I remembered just why I had missed her so much."

_Get to the goddamn point,_ I thought, too pissed to trust myself to speak. My hands were bleeding now, I was sure of it. The pain was enough to make tears tickle the backs of my eyes, so I _had_ to be bleeding.

"But tomorrow?" Con laughed once, quietly, humorlessly. "_I'm_ going to be the one who leaves _her_. Because I am _not_ going to let you hurt me again."

I said nothing as he released me and stood up. I sat up and glared daggers at him, but he just gave me a smug look before putting his hands in his pockets and wandering back the way we'd come, back to where our flock was.

No. Flock_s._ Plural. His flock and my flock. Not _our._

My hands were stinging like crazy, and so were my eyes. I scooted around and leaned back against the giant boulder, glaring out over the sea until long after the sun set. Only then did I go back to the others, making sure I was as far away as possible from Con before falling into a fitful, dreamless sleep.

* * *

What woke me up the next morning was the wind.

Gentle but icy, it bit at the back of my neck and needled through my jacket to send violent shivers running up and down my spine. It kind of tickled, too, almost like someone kept trailing their fingers over my back again and again and again. When I could no longer stand it, I rolled over and sat up.

The beach looked deserted. It was still dark out, and clouds had moved in to blanket the sky in gray, puffy bleakness. The sea had turned choppy, and it, like everything else, seemed devoid of the soft, pleasant colors of yesterday.

Con was gone. And so was the rest of the anti-flock.

Their absence cut at me like the freezing breath of the wind.

* * *

man, this chapter was beastly. (and personally, i think it turned out really, really well, for being mostly written from the comfort of my mother's expedition.) making up for my long, inexcusable absence, i guess :)

this update brought to you from a best western in kearney, nebraska, because i'm not exactly sure when i'll next be able to get online.


	25. Chapter 25

. . .um.

we may or may not be approaching the end of the story. my original plan changed so much that my original ending won't work anymore. so yeah. just a heads-up.

disclaimer: don't own maximum ride.

* * *

_**25. almost easy**_

"Oh, my God, thank goodness you're all all right!" my mom exclaimed as the flock and I landed in the beachy backyard of her hotel.

She ran at me and tried to suffocate me in a hug before I'd even folded my wings; but I let her fuss over me and the others, as she sort-of had the right to. We were supposed to have been in Florida days ago.

"Sorry, Mom," I whispered in her ear as I returned her embrace. We broke apart and I was surprised to see her warm brown eyes glassed over with tears. She hurriedly wiped them away with her sleeve.

"I was just. . ." She stopped, smiling and shaking her head. "Oh, never mind. Let's just get you guys inside. I'll bet you're exhausted."

"Yeah. The Atlantic's one big puddle," I joked, and she gave a slight chuckle. Turning to the flock, I called out, "Hey, guys, let's go. Inside."

I waited until they'd all started walking before following myself; I had to wait a little longer for Spark to get moving. She'd been unusually quiet ever since this morning, when we'd woken up to find Con and his group gone from our private Norwegian beach. It'd been a little surprising, but then again, Con _had_ said they'd leave in the morning. So I didn't know if Spark's weirdness was because of their leaving or because of some other reason unbeknownst to me, but it was unsettling to see her acting so. . .un-Spark-like.

A hand came down on my shoulder and I looked back: Fang.

"You all right?" he asked, one eyebrow raised over one dark, inquisitive eye.

"Yeah," I sighed. "Just beat."

"And worried?" he guessed.

Dang it, why'd he have to know me so well? I shrugged, trying to play it off. "Why would I be worried? We're all here, we're all safe."

His eyes flicked momentarily to Spark, who looked like she was joking and messing around with Iggy. But it only took a few seconds' study to know her heart really wasn't in it.

"Spark's been weird today," Fang said finally. "It's kinda freaking me out, so I _know_ you're freaked, too."

I bit my lip. "I'm not _freaked,_ exactly, just. . .I dunno. Wondering why she's so quiet."

"If you want to know what's bugging her, just ask."

"Uh, don't think so," I said automatically, and Fang gave me a funny look. I shook my head. "Last time I tried to talk to her, she just. . .ugh. She doesn't like being asked about stuff."

"Maybe you need to try asking in a different way," he suggested.

I shot him a quizzical look, but he just shrugged and went off after the flock.

* * *

"Sparky!"

I jerked out of my semi-trance at the sound of my favorite talking dog's voice. I stopped in the doorway of Dr. Martinez's hotel room and looked down. Just in time, too-Total leaped and I just barely caught him, laughing as he attacked my cheeks with his tongue.

I laughed, lifting him up and kissing his head. "Hey, Totally! Haw, man, I missed ya, buddy!"

"What the heck happened to you guys?" he demanded, bracing his paws on my chest so he could look me straight in the eye. "I circled around to try to find Max, but after I couldn't find her I came back to find you all had disappeared on me!"

My grin faded and I shifted him into one arm. "Sorry, Total," I said quietly, scratching his head. "Shit went down and Itex had us take a detour."

"Hey," said a scratchy, more-familiar-than-my-own voice. "I thought we taught you better than that, Nik."

Once again I stopped, much to the annoyance of Max and Fang, who were behind me. Only this time, I wasn't stopped to catch an overjoyed talking Scottie; I was frozen in pure shock. I turned to stare blankly at the man standing by the window. Average height, brown hair, brown eyes, mustache. A bit of a belly, but it didn't detract from his appearance. He looked like a well-off businessman.

But he wasn't that. Not entirely. He was a manager, a director of nursing, all the way over in Denver. He was a bowler, and a golfer, and a family man. A husband. A father.

_My_ father.

Tears pooled in my eyes, threatening to spill if I even blinked.

"D. . .Dad?" I croaked.

He just stood there, looking at me like he couldn't believe I was real. I could feel everyone's eyes flicking between us, like they were following a high-speed tennis match, but neither I nor my dad moved for a good two minutes or so. Then, all of a sudden, he lurched into motion and crossed the room in three steps. Enveloping me in a bear-hug that practically suffocated me, he just held me tight, almost like he was afraid I would disappear. And I just stood there like an idiot, blinking like I'd just woken up.

And surprisingly, those tears I thought would fall had disappeared. Pain cramped my arm and I flinched.

A muffled voice cried, "I'm _dying_ down here! Hello!"

"Dad," I said into his shoulder. "Dad, you're crushing me. And Total."

In a second he was gone, standing back at a respectable distance.

"Oh." My dad sniffed, and I stared, realizing his eyes were teary. "Sorry, uh, Total. Forgot she had ya for a second."

"Hmph!" Total snubbed Dad, turning around in my arms, one of which bore new puncture wounds. "Sure."

Dad looked up at me and smiled. "Wow," he said, shaking his head. He passed a hand over his face, chuckling once. "You've. . .oh, wow. Nik, you're. . ._alive._"

"Y-yeah," I stuttered. "I'm fine. Just. . .fine."

I dimly heard Max's mom explain to the others how my dad had gotten here-someone at his work had showed him the CSM website, upon which was a picture of us bird-kids. Of course, he'd recognized me instantly, and called Dr. M, who had invited him down to Florida to meet us. The rest of the family was home in Colorado, and he'd just come to take me back.

_That_ got my attention.

I blinked, looking over at Max's mom. "Wait, what?"

"We're going home, Nik," Dad said, and I looked at him. I saw his eyes were filled with such happiness that I found I couldn't hold his gaze; I looked down and petted Total, my face burning.

"Dad. . ." I began, but my voice cracked. I cleared my throat and took a steadying breath. "Dad, I saw the news clip. The police supposedly found my body, right? I'm dead."

"I don't know how they did that, Nicole, but it doesn't matter," he replied, shaking his head. I glanced up through my hair and noticed his eyes were moist, and that only made it worse. Dad _never_ cried. "You're alive. You can come home, we can work it out. You have no idea how much we've missed you."

I opened my mouth to say that I did know, but then I realized something.

As awful as it sounds, I hadn't missed them nearly as much as they must have missed me.

So I said, "You're right. I don't."

I took a step toward one of the beds and set Total down upon it. Then, without another word, I left the room and loosed myself into the hallways of one of Miami's Best Westerns.

* * *

At first I strode along at a very quick, controlled pace. But then I heard a door open and panicked.

I ran.

Down the hall, hang a left. Rip open a door, rush downstairs. Turn right, run, nearly collide with a bewildered Puerto Rican maid. Back up the stairs, three flights this time. Zip through the halls, dodge a bellhop, down six floors.

_Run, run, run, as fast as you can. . ._

I didn't think. I didn't _want_ to think. I just focused on one foot in front of the other, on not running into anything or anybody. Soon I lost track of what floor I was on, how far away I was from the room, how long I'd been gone. I slowed down some and spotted a door bearing a sign reading "ROOF ACCESS." I guessed I might as well, and had the lock picked in a second.

When I opened the door up onto the roof, I just stopped there and closed my eyes, reveling in the cool, refreshing breeze. I'd started feeling unnaturally warm, maybe from running, maybe from something else. I wanted to think it was the former, but I knew it was probably the latter.

I kicked off a shoe and left it in the crack of the door to prop it open. Wandering over to the edge of the building, my eyes raked over Miami sprawled out beneath me. Fancy cars raced through the streets, and fashionable tourists waltzed along the sidewalks. Cars driven by humans. Human tourists. All normal people, with normal lives.

Unless Michael Weston was down there, wandering around and blowing up drug dealers or whatever the hell it was he did as a fictional burned spy.

I hunched over the roof's ledge, resting my chin on my crossed arms. Miami wasn't as cluttered or close-together as Chicago. And it was a million times bigger than Monument.

God, Monument. My little second hometown. With its lightly curving roads and its kid-friendly suburbs. Where everyone goes to one of four elementary schools, one of two middle schools, and a single high school. The kinda place where everybody knows everybody. My heart ached for it, for the normalcy of it. My friends were there, and my family. My friends thought I was dead; my family had no idea what had really happened to me.

God, I missed them. Or at least, I would claim that I did.

But I was loving life with the flock. These kids were exactly like me, and for the first time I felt like I didn't have to lie to be accepted. Iggy, Angel, Total, Nudge, the Gasman, Fang, Max. They'd changed my life, and would probably keep changing it every day. Because of them, I'd met some really amazing people (and some not-so-amazing, but ya know. With the good comes the bad). If I ever had to leave them, I don't know how I'd stand it. They were like a family.

I felt very contradictory at the moment. I wanted my old life back, I wanted to stay on the run. I wanted this, I wanted that. I wanted both. I wanted neither.

I groaned and buried my face in my arms. I had no idea what the hell was going on anymore. Itex was done, God willing. Max wanted to help her mom with all the CSM stuff, and the flock wanted what Max wanted (most of the time). And me? I just wanted what was fun; and if neither was fun, then I wanted what was easy. I'd always been like that-lazy to my very core. But I wasn't exactly sure which life was easier anymore.

I heard a light scuffing noise from behind me.

"You better've left my shoe in the door," I said loudly, my voice muffled by my sleeves. "I don't wanna have to fly down and go back in the front."

"I, uh, did," said Max's voice. _Here we go._ "And Spark? I think we need to talk."

_Oh really now? Why am I not surprised?_ I thought bitterly.

Now, despite our past differences, I didn't have anything against Max (or at least, not much). But I _did not_ want to talk to anyone right now. Least of all a girl. Because unlike the males I've met over the years, the females try to tell me exactly what I should feel and exactly how I should act according to those feelings. But I didn't want logic. I just needed to think it all through on my own. By myself. Hence the running away to the roof all by myself.

"Spark. . ." Max's footsteps neared until I sensed her standing beside me. Her voice was quieter, gentler as she said, "If you want to go home, you can. We won't stop you."

_No. Stop me. Please, stop me._

"We finished Itex in London," she added, trying to sound positive. "Nudge looked it up online-they're declaring bankruptcy."

_Don't care, don't care. I don't want to go yet. I don't want to go back to waiting for a better tomorrow. I want to keep doing things to make for a better today._

Huh. Maybe she _was_ helping. Because, for what might have been the first time in my life, I found myself thinking, _Con was right._

(Well, there was a lot of cussing out in that, too, but that was the basic underlying thought.)

All that stuff he'd been saying last night. He'd been right. I couldn't just go back home like nothing had happened. Ha! How the _hell_ could I be entertained by burning salts in Chemistry class when I'd freaking blasted a wall out of a building using my own (granted, amplified) power? It'd be even worse than before. I'd had a taste of adventure, of excitement. I was different. Like hell I wasn't. I'd die of boredom if Dad made me go back.

_Listen to me,_ I thought wryly. _If he _makes_ me. Home's not the favorable option anymore._

"Spark?" Max ventured warily.

If she'd been talking before that, I hadn't listened. I neglected to inform her of that; she'd probably only get mad. After a pause, I finally lifted my head, screwing up my eyes against the sudden glare of the Florida sun.

"Yeah," I said. "Spark. That's me, Max. That's who I am now."

I heard her shift. "Um. . ."

"I'm Spark, the freaky flying bird kid," I stated bluntly. My eyes suddenly started burning, and I cleared my voice in a vain attempt to steady it. "I. . .I'm not Nicole Ackerly anymore. And I can't go back to being her, Max, I just can't. I don't want to hide who I am anymore. I want to be part of the flock. I've been more myself with you guys than I ever was back home. Besides-everyone there thinks I'm dead. It. . .I think it's better than I'm here, instead of home. I don't have to follow any rules, and I don't have to pretend to be somebody I'm not, and, and I've never had more fun just _living._ I can't go back, I just can't, don't make me. I'm not normal, I don't want to go back, I can't, please, don't make me, don't, don't, don't. . ."

And now I was crying.

_Shit._

I don't know how long Max just let me stand there and weep like some confused, stressed-out teenage girl. Which, I realized, I was now. Which was just so fantabulous, you know. Especially for me. Because, like, that's what I'd always strived to be as a child. A messed-up teenager. Hell yeah, life's ambition: accomplished. I could die happy now. Oh, pure, unadulterated joy!

_Layin' the sarcasm on thick now, are we?_ I asked myself. _Woo! Just all over the place today._

I swiped my sleeves across my eyes one last time and straightened up in one quick motion. Quick note: no matter what people try to tell ya, crying actually _does_ help. Sometimes. It sorta gives you a refreshed feeling afterward, like, _okay, got that over with, now let's do some work._

I took a deep breath and blinked. There was still some moisture on my eyelashes-I could feel it. But I ignored it and looked at Max.

"Tell anyone I cried and die," I said, careful to keep a straight face. "Got that?"

Max hesitated. I'd probably freaked her out just now, so I winked to let her know I was better. She cracked a smirk. "Got it."

We leaned over the roof's ledge again, and for once, Max let me be for a bit. Then she asked, "So. What're you gonna do, Spark?"

I shrugged. "Don't know. Don't want to go back, don't want my family to miss me."

"Well, like I said, we won't stop you if you want to go home," Max told me gently. "But. . .I have to say the kids would miss you if you left."

"I'd miss them too," I admitted. "And Iggy, and Fang, and you. Oh, and Total. Especially Total."

Max let out a laugh. "Oh, yeah, I don't know how we survived without him."

I smiled, rubbing the back of my neck. "You know Con asked me to go with him."

I don't know what had made me drop that bomb. I hardly wanted to remember it, let alone broadcast it to the world. But I guess I owed Max some things. More respect, for one thing, as flock leader, and just as an all-around person. I'd just been thrown into the mix two months ago-she'd been living this shit her whole life. She did so much to keep the flock together and functioning on at least some level of normal, and all I'd ever done was goof around and make jokes. Maybe I _had_ been a little too crazy on her.

"That what happened when you went after him last night?" she asked after a pause.

"Yeah," I said simply. "I said maybe we should think about the joining up, and he just randomly kinda asked me to join his flock."

"And what'd you say?"

"I said there was no way I was leaving you guys," I said with a shrug. "He got pissed, and I got pissed, and we just. . .bleh. Said mean shit to each other, sorta blew each other off, and next morning he was gone." I shrugged again. "Whatever. He's a jackass anyway, so I don't care. One less option. God knows I don't need another one right now."

"Speaking of options," Max said, half-turning towards me. I looked at her apprehensively. _What now?_ "Why did you call Sy the other day?"

My collar started getting warm again. "What's it to you?"

"I just wondered," she replied quickly, like she was afraid I'd freak out and start bawling again. "Especially since you didn't want us to know, and got really mad when Blaze told. . ."

"I just hate it when people rag me about being girly," I sighed. I smirked and added, "In case you hadn't noticed, it doesn't happen very often."

She snickered. "Doesn't happen to me much, either."

"And then the one time you break tempo, you never live it down!" I exclaimed, throwing my hands up in the air. "I hate it! Which is why I hate Blaze for bringing up my calling Sy! She just had to throw it in my face!"

"There's nothing wrong with being girly," Max said, but she didn't sound a hundred percent certain on that. "Were you just checking up on him?"

"Yeah," I replied. I hesitated, but decided she'd probably ask about that last thing I'd said to him. "And. . .what I said to him, that Blaze didn't know what it meant. . ."

"Home in three days," she finished. "What was that about, then?"

"I didn't mean _my_ home, exactly," I said haltingly, pondering my word choice. "I meant. . .well, his dad was some Australian dude, and we were going to Australia, so I guess, um, I wanted him to just hook up with us there, and. . ." I stopped as Max snorted. "What?"

"Blaze was right," she said, sounding like she was trying not to laugh. "It _is_ a hook-up!" Max laughed outright and I scowled, waiting impatiently for her to finish.

"It is _not,_" I snapped. "He's my best friend and I just prefer that he be around me instead of running around doing God knows what!"

"_Just_ your best friend?" she teased.

"Like Fang's yours?" I sneered back. Her face shut down, and I felt a little guilty. "Guess we've both got issues, huh? Your thing with Fang just being complicated, and my. . .reluctance to confirm anything with Sy." I twinged just from saying it.

"You're a private person," Max said reasonably. "I get that now. Wish I could be, but it's harder when the only people you know are family."

"And family's kinda like Mafia," I said, only half-joking. "Once you're in, you ain't gettin' out. Nobody knows nothin' but they all know somethin'."

"Or everything," Max said glumly.

I nodded. "Or everything."

There was another companionable silence before Max asked, "Like your family?"

"Hm?" I'd zoned out there for a second.

"Don't they know everything?"

I shrugged. "Only the immediate. And Cody and Beck found out when we were little, apparently." I rolled my eyes. Add Taj and Sister Katherine to that list, too-the list of people I didn't know knew about my wings.

"So that's what you meant when you said you didn't want to pretend to be somebody you weren't," Max said. "You don't want to pretend to be human when you're not."

"Kinda. I mean, I _am_ Nikki Ackerly; I grew up as her, and those files Con had on us said I actually was. But I'm also Spark. I was her before I ran away, and I'm her now." I lifted my hands, holding them like a scale. "And the difference is the fact that I have wings. Secret and unusable when Nik, fact and functional when Spark. Friends who think I'm human, friends who know I'm a freak." I shrugged, dropping the scale. "They're just two separate lifestyles that I can't live at the same time. Especially with that thing Itex pulled."

"With the human clone?"

"Yeah. And since _it_ is dead, the Nik lifestyle is also dead," I said. In a mutter I added, "Or at least, it should be."

"You can't just leave all that behind so easily," Max said indignantly. I turned to her and she gave me a hard look. "Spark, that was your _life._ The vast majority of it, too. If you want to keep being Spark, then you owe your dad an explanation as to why."

"He won't get it," I protested. "He'll only hear that I don't want to go home, and he'll get all pissed and we'll fight. I'll probably end up blowing him off and running again, which'll only make it all worse."

"Spark. He's your dad. In all ways possible. He'll understand."

"Not all parents are as great as your mom, Max," I told her, shaking my head. "All my dad's ever known about this is that I'm the adopted one with wings. I'm his and Mom's 'secret angel.' " I rolled my eyes. "They think that since I'm their kid, they can control me. And up till this whole thing started, they pretty much did."

Max's eyes narrowed and I quickly amended myself. "Not that it was always bad! It was mostly a good thing. Like, I had a home, and clothes, everything I needed, and a lot of what I wanted. They're good parents. But when it comes to any of us doing something not their way or that they don't like, it's like, 'Gird your loins, they're unleashing the beast!' "

Max snorted and I went on. "These past two months with you guys have rocked. Well, not the dangerous stuff so much, but the other stuff. Like, not having to go to school. Flying around all day. Just. . .being who we are. No rules, no problem." I groaned suddenly, dropping my head into my hand. "Oh, God, Con was right. I would _not_ be able to handle being told what to do again. I don't think I can go back."

Max was quiet awhile, then turned to me. "Let's make a deal."

"Excuse me?" I asked, looking up at her with my eyebrow raised.

"You stay with us for a while," she said. I kept watching warily and she went on. "A lot's happened lately, and I don't think your mind's caught up to all the change just yet. So you hang with us until things cool down, and then you try out the home life again."

"And?" I prompted. "What happens after that?" Because there had to be a second part to that.

Max smiled. "And if the family life doesn't work out, I will personally bust you out and haul your ass back to the flock."

I smirked, then raised my hand. "You got yourself a deal, chickadee."

"All right." Max slapped the high five and grinned. "Ready to head back?"

I heaved a breath and nodded.

I was ready to face my dad.

* * *

Max and I kinda hauled ass back to the hotel room. If I knew Dad, he'd only get more pissed the longer I kept him waiting, and I wanted to catch him before he got to the point where he just sulked and responded with one-syllable answers.

"He just stared at the door when you walked out," Max told me as we ran. "We all did. Then he started, like, freaking out, tried to go after you, but Mom talked him down. Iggy wanted to come after you, but, well, he's blind, and he doesn't know this place, so I came instead."

"Yeah," I said, nodding. "Thanks for that. Which room were we?"

"Um, 412," she responded. I nodded again.

_Ironic, that,_ I thought to myself. _Home catches up with me in the room that's the same number as my address._

We made it back in under ten minutes. Max had a key card, so she went in first, but I was right behind her.

I glanced around and spotted him. "Dad-"

"Dammit, Nikki, you can't just go running off like that!" Dad snapped at me, rising from the table in the corner. I stopped mid-step and blinked at him, and guilt passed over his expression. "I'm sorry. It's just. . .I thought you'd left me again. Don't go pullin' shit like that."

That last part ticked me off some. I could take care of myself; I didn't need him reprimanding me. He liked to do that, and whenever he did I felt like a little kid all over again, with him yelling at me for not being good. "Nikki, stay _here!_" "Nikki, be _careful _with your brother!" "Nikki, quit _doin'_ that!"

My fists clenched, my apologetic attitude dimming. I was _not_ a kid anymore. I hadn't been for long time.

"Dad," I began, but he cut me off.

"I mean, I just had a freak-out just now, and your friends here weren't tellin' me anything!"

"Dad."

"Like, who _are_ these people, Nik?" he ranted. "Just who have you been hanging out with? And why the hell didn't you call home?"

"Dad, I-"

"Pay phones! Borrow a cell phone! Hell, shoot me an email! Anything, just to tell us where you are, that you're _alive,_ for God's sake!"

The marks on my palms from last night cracked open again and I winced. Thin skin on my hands, huh?

"DAD," I said loudly, and he stopped to glare at me. "Can I talk for like a second, please?"

"What?" he said grumpily. I just _knew_ he'd react this way.

I rolled my eyes. "Well, you keep asking questions, but you're not giving me a chance to answer. So can I answer, please?"

"Fine. What d'you want to say?"

I took a breath and looked him in the eye. "Back at Dominick's two months ago, you told me to fly home and not stop. But my stitches ripped open on the way, so I _had_ to stop. And when I stopped, I ran into these guys." I waved my arm around the room to indicate the flock. "They're like me, Dad. And you have no idea how much being with them has changed me."

And I proceeded to tell him what had happened since I'd lit out for home. Not all of it, of course. God no. He'd have a heart attack. But I told him the abridged version, and left it at that. The whole time, he was unexpectedly yet respectably quiet. But I had a hunch he wouldn't be so quiet when I got to the part about where I wanted to stay with these guys. Everyone else was quiet, too, until I finished telling the story and my dad said:

"Nik, maybe we should go out into the hall." He stepped forward, hand raised so he could guide me.

My hands started bleeding anew. "No. We're going to stay in here, with the flock."

"No, Sp-Nicole, really. We can go," said Dr. Martinez, rising from her chair. "We'll leave you and your father alone."

"Please sit down, Dr. M," I said firmly. "I want you all to stay."

I took a steadying breath and looked at my dad. _Well, here it goes._ "Dad, I'm going to keep hanging out with the flock for a while."

His eyebrows went up in surprise. "Excuse me?"

"I. . .I can't go home yet," I said. "There's still stuff I have to do for CSM, for Max and the flock. And. . .Max is helping me, Dad. She is. You and Mom were always so worried about me, how I'm so lazy I'd never leave the house and have a life. Thing is, as much as you want me back home, I'm learning what you wanted me to learn by being here. I'm learning how to step up and take control of my life. And that's what I'm doing now."

Dad's face was just kinda blank now, and I couldn't tell if he was angry, sad, shocked, or what. I just took another breath and went on. "I am _not_ going home with you today. Itex only just went bankrupt, and there's bound to be aftereffects. I'm going to see this thing out to the end, and when things cool down, _that's_ when I'll come home. If I end up missing the rest of the school year, so be it. I'll take summer classes, catch up online. But I'll only do that _after_ I'm done with this. Can you deal with that?"

He kept that neutral expression on his face and stared at me for a while. Then he just scoffed and shook his head. "What happened to ya, Nik? You used to be a kid."

I felt my eyes narrow. What was _that_ supposed to mean? Was he. . ._did he understand? Was Max right?_

Dad shrugged. "Not much I'll be able to do, is there? You're already here. You're used to running now. I try to drag you home and you'll only turn right around and come back, right?"

"But. . ." I thought to him I'd be sounding so unreasonable. Was he really understanding, or. . .?

"It's not like we have much control over you anyway," he said dryly. "You're not our real daughter, you're not our blood. Technically you don't owe us anything."

I stopped like I'd been slapped. _You're not our real daughter._ That hurt me. Literally stumped me speechless. How could he say that? While that was true (as far as he was aware), he had _never_ said anything so cruel to me. Neither had Mom, or Kenny, or even Jeremy. Idiots at school had before, but they didn't matter. My dad, on the other hand, _did_ matter. How could he say that?

"D-Dad, I. . ." My voice broke and I trailed off, at a loss for words.

There was a clatter, but my eyes had blurred over so much I couldn't see what'd happened.

"Mr. Ackerly, I think you should leave now."

I blinked the tears away and I looked around. _Dr. Martinez?_

She'd stood up so fast her chair had fallen over to the floor, and now she was glaring at my dad like she'd just heard him say he drowned kittens and blind puppies. There was a fire in her eyes that surprised me. Fiercely, she said, "As Max's mother, I completely understand your feelings of worry and heartbreak when you don't know where your daughter is. I myself have felt those feelings from time to time. But Spark is your daughter despite her genetics. From what Max has told me, you adopted and raised Spark since she was very young, and I'm sure she is eternally grateful to you for that. But she does _not_ deserve to hear the awful thing you just said to her, and you had no right to say it, either. So I ask that you leave my hotel room now, and preferably go back to your home in Colorado."

The tears came back as I registered the emotion behind her words. She wasn't even my mom, and here she was standing up for me. I just. . .she was probably one of the most wonderful, loving people I'd ever met. I envied Max in having her as a mother.

My dad didn't seem to think the same as me, though. He glared at her and spat, "Nicole is _my_ daughter, Doctor, and I'd appreciate if you didn't try to interfere with our family. But yeah, I'll leave." He grabbed me by the wrist and started pulling me toward the door. "C'mon, Nik."

I resisted, bracing my feet against the floor. "No, Dad. I said I'm staying here."

"No, you're comin' with me," he snapped back, his grip tightening. "Home. _Now._"

He had maybe ninety pounds on me, so when he yanked, I staggered forward, wincing from the intensity of his hand around my wrist. I saw Max and even Fang tense up, and Iggy half-rose from his chair.

_"Dad!"_ I yelled, digging my fingernails into his hand. He swore and let go of me, cradling his injury and staring at me like I'd shot at him. But I did not feel at _all_ bad about it. "Quit it! Now shut up and _listen_ to me, dammit!"

He said nothing, so I just stood my ground and spoke what was on my mind.

"I have taken too much crap from adults I don't even know, and I will _not_ take it from you," I said fiercely. "Now, as much as I hate to say it, I can _not_ go home yet. If I go home and just start going back to the daily grind all at once, then I'll go insane. I just know it. People have been chasing after me and trying to kill me, and I just can't stop functioning on adrenaline. So I have to take some time to get used to not having people chasing me all the time. I need to ease off the action and excitement, and once that's happened, I'll come home."

The room was dead quiet for what felt like a long time. But Dad finally broke it, speaking in a careful, even tone.

"Fine then," he said with a shrug. "Do whatever the hell you want. See ya whenever."

And with that he turned on his heel and strode out the door.

It got quiet again, with only Total moving to get off a bed and come over to sniff at my feet. I let out a heavy sigh and crouched down to scratch head. The flock watched me for about two minutes, until Iggy said, "Okay, I'm dying over here. Are you okay, Spark?"

I managed to crack a smirk. "Yeah, Ig. I'm fine."

"So you're stayin' with us?" Fang asked coolly, looking out the window.

"For now," I replied, shrugging a shoulder. "I'll have to go back eventually. Just because my dad's being a jackass doesn't mean the rest of 'em don't want me back. And I owe my cousins a story, too, so I'll have to swing back by them sometime soon."

"When's this 'eventually' going to take place?"

"That doesn't matter," Max said, and everyone looked at her. I sent her a grateful smile and she returned the gesture. "For now, we're just going to do what we came here to do." Turning to her mother, she asked, "We have tickets to Australia, right?"

"Spark, I'm so sorry," Dr. M said, ignoring her daughter and looking straight at me. I blinked in surprise when I saw tears in her eyes. "I didn't mean to disrespect your father like that, I didn't mean to make him so angry, I-"

"Oh, no!" I raised my hands defensively. "No, Dr. Martinez, please. I need to thank you for that."

She looked hopelessly puzzled. "But. . ."

"Sometimes my dad just loses it," I explained. "Usually it's my mom who has to cool him out, so thanks for taking her place. Really. Thank you."

"You're. . .you're welcome," she said, sounding startled. "But. . .are you really sure?"

"Yes, I am," I replied sincerely. "And he'll regret saying it later, I'm sure of it. He always does."

_And he _really_ will,_ I added forcefully in my head. _Itex may be bankrupt but I still have strings I can pull. I'll get those files on us, and I'll prove to him we're related. Nudge is great with computers. She'll get it if I can get her an in._

Swift was good with electronics too, I knew. But I didn't have him at my disposal anymore. I shook my head to rid it of the sudden onslaught of memories from the darkening Norwegian beach. _Forget about that._

"So. Australia, then?" I asked, looking round at the flock. "Where're we goin' first?"

"Oh." Max's mom blinked and turned around, searching for her Blackberry. Finding it, she opened up some type of document and rattled off our schedule. When she mentioned Sydney, I lit up.

"Sydney! Oh, awesome!"

"Why is Sydney awesome?" Total asked curiously, snuffling at my hand.

"Uh, it's just beyond the EAC," I said with a _duh_ kind of tone. "Which I plan to ride. With the surfer turtles, dude! Nice!"

Everyone turned to stare at me and I put on an innocent look. "What?"


	26. Chapter 26

it appears as though i inadvertently lied last chapter :P i came up with a way to keep the story goin' in (hopefully) an interesting direction. so yay.

oh, and sometime in the past couple chapters, we hit 100,000 words. i only noticed that today. hooray for us!

disclaimer: don't own maximum ride.

* * *

_**26. the game's afoot**_

_The man with the mustache is gone. He storms out of the hotel with tears in his eyes and steam practically coming out of his ears. He won't ever recover from this encounter. No, his heart has been broken, and the heart is one of the hardest things to fix._

_And there _she_ is, upstairs, laughing it off with her friends like it's nothing. Acting like her life has only ever been full of sunshine and rainbows and laughter. And yet in this past week alone, she's damaged her father irrevocably, angered a childhood friend perhaps past the point of no return, and caused another young man an aching combination of worry, disappointment, and envy._

_She laughs again, her golden-brown eyes crinkling as her lips turn up in a smile. She flicks her head to banish the blond bangs from her vision, and the light streaming in from the window catches the motion, sending little glints of sun rippling through her hair._

_And the wanting begins anew._

He opened his eyes. Above him was sky; clear, incredibly blue sky, dotted here and there with cottony swabs of cloud. The sun was somewhere out of his line of sight, but he could still feel it-warm, and comfortable. There was no wind, nothing to give him a chill. It was the kind of day where young couples or happy families would go out to have a picnic, take a million pictures, and make memories that would last a lifetime.

It all made him sick. It was just so _dull._

Because all he'd ever wanted wasn't there. She was off in Miami, with those kids. Yesterday she'd been in Norway, and all day she'd been goofing around and toying with that stupid black-haired bastard. It had made him angry to learn that, but when he saw that she hit him when he tried to kiss her, it made him feel better.

She didn't hit the silver boy, though. She always looked so happy when she was with him. He wondered idly how long it would be until she broke that boy's heart, too. Not that it interested him, really-Silver would just be another bump on the road for her, just like Blackbird. She'd move on to another person to destroy. Because she was just the damndest little heartbreaker.

Boy, girl, child, adult. Human, hybrid. Family, friend, enemy. It didn't matter. She cradled their hearts in her hands ever so gently, then whipped around and shattered them on the rocks. It was astounding to witness, actually. Watching her toy around and manipulate every person she met. She was the kind of girl your mother warned you about. If you even had a mother, that is. Which he didn't.

But she was _just so interesting._ It was irresistable, he just couldn't put his finger on it. She didn't seem to regret anything she did, even if others became angry, or sad, or hurt. She never gave up fighting, she always found a way to escape, and she just. . .she just wouldn't stop _living._ It was no wonder the scientists had told him about her. He used to get so _bored_ with everything. School, jobs, training. Girls. Guys. "Friends." "Enemies." To the scientists' dismay, he never gave any reaction to anything. Not even excruciating pain. Nothing ever interested him.

Until Spark.

They said she had the power to destroy the world, if she wanted. They said she was their greatest weapon, when she cooperated.

But that wasn't what had attracted him to her.

He'd read and reread her files like they were the Bible, memorizing every single fact, every minor detail. He'd flipped through her pictures countless times, obsessing over her eyes, her smile. Listening to recordings of her voice had been the very first times he'd smiled and laughed against his own volition. He'd asked again and again to go see her, but they'd kept saying it wasn't time.

London was supposed to be the time. After the conference, they would've let her live, at least long enough for him to meet her. He just wanted to meet her once, so he could figure out what went on in that pretty little head of hers.

_And they'd gone and fucking lost her._

When the freaks first started goofing off in the conference, he'd had no doubt that Spark was the mastermind. In fact, he'd been anticipating what she would do. She always found a way to make him laugh.

But then the idiots "in charge" of her had gone and let her fly away. How stupid could they _get?_

And then, of course, Itex had to pretend to declare bankruptcy to save face, and what was left of the company had been bought out by some other hotshot who seemed to live by the phrase, "out with the old, in with the new." All the old guys were fired, and all previous experiments had to be terminated, and everything had to start over fresh.

He was one of maybe two or three who got to stay. And for the first time, he'd been given a job he actually _wanted_ to do.

He got to go after Spark.

Technically, he was supposed to find her and kill her, but he guessed he could take his time on that. Stevens let him get away with anything, and of course he needed to _meet_ Spark first. Get to know her. Play with her. Figure out what made her tick. _Then_ he'd blow her brains out.

And it'd be fun, too. He'd play cat and mouse. Chase her around. Make her run. Reel her in, throw her back. Whatever it took, however _long_ it took, until he was completely satisfied. Hm. Maybe he'd catch up with the blackbird boy, and the silver one, too. Throw them into the mix, both at the same time, and watch for Spark's reaction.

He sat up, a small smile gracing his usually motionless lips.

_Miami's a little far,_ he thought,_ but not too far. I can get there, catch her plane. What was it she said? Three days until she meets with the silver boy? I can wait 'till then. And it'll give me time to find the jerk she scared off yesterday._

He let out a small chuckle. _Won't be long now, Spark, my sweet._

If Spark was the girl mothers warned their sons about, then Leander was the boy fathers warned their daughters about.

He would _not_ stop until he managed to drive her insane.

* * *

i have a new vill-ain, i have a new vill-ain! i was kinda blankin' on this for a while, 'cuz i had the anti-flock leave and didn't know what to do next :/ but now i have leander, so it's all good.

unless this just seems like a desperate attempt to keep this story breathing. hope that isn't the case. . .but if it is, please tell me.


	27. Chapter 27

sorry last chapter was so short. i just wanted to keep that little bit all on its own. . .plus, i didn't want to fall into the habit of not updating again.

but it wins the shortest-chapter-of-the-story-so-far award, so at least there's that.

disclaimer: don't own maximum ride.

* * *

_**27. what has kangaroos, wallabies, and dingoes? a zoo! (and australia)**_

"Okay." Wave leaned forward between the front seats yet again to talk to Kyla. "Iggy, or Fang?"

Kyla thought about it for a second, then smiled. "Definitely Iggy. Fang looks all emo and stuff. Remember when Sy's hair was black?" She shuddered delicately. "Uh, no thank you."

"You have _got_ to be kidding!" Wave exclaimed. "That was so awesome when he did that. And besides, Fang is _way _hotter than Iggy."

"You're only saying that because his hair's black like Con's," Nixie interjected from Wave's side.

"And?" Wave prompted.

"You've liked him since you grew boobs," Aliza piped up from the third row of seats.

Wave looked back over her shoulder, smirking. "Your point?"

"Well then, here's an idea," Kyla said, drawing her friend's attention again. "Fang or Con?"

"Ooohh, tough one. Hm." Wave pondered the choice, then asked, "But isn't Fang with that Max girl?"

"Relationships aside. Him or Con?" Kyla persisted.

Sy slowed down the car and cleared his throat loudly. "Uh. As much as I enjoy listening to you two play 'Who Would You Do,' could one of you emerge from the fantasies long enough to tell me which way I have to turn?" he asked.

"Turn right, that's south," Kyla said, pointing. Sy gunned the engine and spun the wheel. "We need to get to Perpignan, and from there toooo. . ." Kyla paused as she pulled out the map of France and consulted it. "Port-Bou. That's right on the edge of the Gulf of Lion."

"And out into the Mediterranean Sea," Wave added, pointing.

"You do realize we'll have to surface to cross that little spit of land right there, right?" Sy observed, briefly taking a hand from the steering wheel to flip some pages and indicate the spot. "And from there on to the Red Sea."

"Yeah, we know," Wave said.

"We're not swimming _all _the way around Africa," said Kyla, rolling her eyes. "That's just dumb, it'd take too long. Your little girlfriend only gave us three days."

"Wait a minute, are we swimming all the way to _Australia,_ though?" Aqua suddenly asked from the very back of the car. Sy glanced in the rearview mirror and saw she had momentarily abandoned her video game, leaving Arthur to take over. "What kinda crap is that?"

"We won't swim _all_ the way in one shot," Sy explained. He turned some more pages and grabbed the map up out of Kyla's hand, holding it up for the elder of the twins to see. He stretched his fingers to point out their route, meanwhile trying to keep the car steady. It was quite a challenge. "Look, we can rest in Somalia for a little, then we head for the Maldives, rest there, and swim to the Cocos-"

"Keeling," Arthur corrected quietly.

"Yeah, whatever, and then from there we go to Nickol, in Australia," Sy finished. He gave the map back to Kyla and flexed his hand; his fingers had started to cramp from the awkward way he'd been holding the book.

"Well, okay, but Sydney's all the way across the continent," Aqua reminded him.

"And isn't that where they're gonna be?" Arthur asked.

"We can probably find a plane," Sy said, but even he heard the doubt in his voice.

D.J. shifted in the seat behind Sy. "Think so?"

"I don't know, I'm guessing," he said tiredly. "We might have to jack cars instead, though, and drive through."

"Why?" Wave leaned forward yet again, eyebrow raised and lips quirked in amusement. "Did Mommy's card get denied at the last gas station?"

His hand tightened on the wheel. "No, but I can only charge so much before she'll realize that it's me using it," he replied irritably. "She used to drop cards for drifters, so a little something here and there didn't matter. But if we start getting plane tickets in Australia, she'll get suspicious."

"Maybe some of those drifters are secretly rich people looking for more money," Janey said, and D.J. snickered.

"Yeah, and, uh, we've been hitting France pretty hard, so don't ya think she's _already _suspicious?" Kyla asked in disbelief. "And by the way, why'd we have to send _all_ of it back to the safe house? You couldn't let us have at least _one_ cute outfit to wear in Kangaroo-Land?"

"Well, to be fair, it'd be a little hard to drag all that stuff through the water," Wave said reasonably. "Not to mention damaging. And we _did_ steal his card in the first place."

"Yeah, and left me, Arthur, and D.J. alone all day," Sy added in.

"You guys were playing Halo when we left," Wave said flippantly, waving him off. "You were fine."

"Believe it or not, Halo _does_ get dull after a while." Half the car turned to stare at Arthur in amazement, but he paid no attention, instead pointing at the screen of the DS Aqua was now controlling again. "Go up, there are more coins there," he said to her.

"Yeah, and Call of Duty gets boring too," D.J. agreed. "That hotel only had so many games, ya know."

Janey stirred in D.J.'s lap; at only six, she was always one of the first to get antsy. "So how long 'til we get ta Perpy-non?"

_"Perpignan,"_ Wave corrected. "And it'll be a while, probably. Why don't you try to sleep? Or play with that game the twins have."

"Oooh, can I?" Janey asked excitedly, twisting around. The twins glanced at each other, then shrugged.

"Sure, whatever," said Aqua, pressing some final buttons before handing the system to the younger girl. "It was getting boring anyway."

"Go to a new file thing, and start your own game," Arthur put in, and Janey nodded to show she'd heard.

Sy flicked his eyes to the rearview mirror, looking back to where the twins were sitting at the very back of the car. Having given up their Nintendo DS to Janey, they were now staring out the window at the French countryside. They were easily amused, but just as easily bored. And they were very. . .closed off. Like their view of the world was separated into terms of "us" and "not us." They got along just fine with the others, but when it came down to it they still put each other first.

Aliza and Nixie were a little like that as well. Not so extreme as the twins, but they were best friends. And of course, Kyla and Wave were their own Dynamic Duo. They were practically sisters themselves, they were so much alike. D.J. and Janey, too, were very close, each ready to do anything to protect the other (even though Janey was only six). D.J. had never associated much with anyone else, and Janey always said she thought he'd looked lonely.

Sy, however, had never really had anything like that. Until Spark, that is. She was the only one who'd actually been honestly _nice._ Ariel had practically stalked him, and only two or three others had ever been brave enough to mock him about something or other. A majority of the fish hybrids had actually admitted to being intimidated by him. Because he was the main researcher's son, because he was the fastest of them all, because he apparently looked "unapproachable." Stupid shit like that.

Spark hadn't been intimidated. If anything, _she_ had been intimidating. She was just so _on,_ so full of energy all the time.

"Hel-_loooo._" Kyla's hand waving in front of his face made Sy blink and zone back to the present. "Earth to Sy."

"What?" he asked stupidly.

"You passed where we were supposed to turn," she told him. Tilting her head, she inquired, "What were you thinking about?"

"Oh. Sorry. Nothing." He slowed the car and did a U-turn, turning again when Kyla indicated the right road.

Wave smirked evilly and poked at Sy's side. He flinched away, nearly jerking the car into the wrong lane. "I'll bet he was thinking about his _girlfriend,_" she teased.

Kyla laughed. "They better not have been dirty things, you perv."

"Yes, because my mind was born and raised in the gutter," he said sarcastically. "Sorry, but that description better fits _your_ guys' minds."

Kyla gasped, and Wave put a hand to her heart, crying, "Po_sei_don! You flatter me."

Sy rolled his eyes.

"Better not say things like that where Sparky can hear," the other girl said, winking obviously at him. "She might get jealous!"

"It's just Spark," he corrected shortly. "Not Sparky. Sparky is what you name a dog, and Spark is not a dog."

"When she's being a good girl she's not," Kyla said slyly.

"But when she's bad I bet you just smack her nose with the newspaper, don't you?" Wave asked, grinning maliciously.

Sy spluttered for a moment while the two girls laughed; he thought he even heard Nixie and Aliza giggle.

"There are _children_ is this car!" he finally exclaimed. "Good God, did you guys drink an extra dose of gutter-water this morning?"

Wave laughed again, leaning forward to hook her arm around Sy's. "Hell yeah, buddy. Why d'you think we were playing 'Who Would You Do'?"

"We would've asked you to play, but your answers would probably be boring," Kyla explained.

Sy shook Wave's hand off, almost smiling. "That's insulting. I'm one of the most interesting people I know."

"Okay then. Who would you do, Sy? Me, or Kyla?"

This time he did smile. "Neither, because you both are dirty-minded skanks and I could do way better."

"Uh!" Both girls gasped in shock while the rest of car burst out laughing.

_"Burn!"_ Aqua cackled. "Good answer, Sy!"

As the laughter died down, Kyla was first to recover. "Okay then," she said coolly, flicking her long brown hair out of her face. "How about this. Spark, or Kate Hudson?"

He paused. "Who?"

"Uh, she was the cover girl for _People_'s '100 Most Beautiful People of 2008'," Wave said in a _duh_ sort of tone.

"The chick in _Fool's Gold_, Sy," Nixie clarified.

"That movie with Matthew McConaughey," Aliza added helpfully.

"Ohh. Well, I've never met Kate Hudson."

Kyla sighed irritably, rolling her eyes. "You're not supposed to _think_ about it, you idiot. Say you hadn't met Spark before, either, and it was a random choice for a one-nighter with one of 'em."

"And no, it doesn't matter that Kate Hudson's like thirty, okay? Pretend you're all of age or something!" Wave interjected quickly before he could object.

But Sy just shrugged. "I'd still pick Spark."

Wave groaned, falling back in her seat and crossing her arms. "God you're dull."

"You should've guessed he would pick Spark in any pairing," Aqua pointed out.

"If you were smart you would've left her out of it," her twin added logically.

"Ah, shut up, you."

Sy tuned out the ensuing argument, his mind drifting-as usual-to Spark. Of course he'd pick her. Even if he'd just met her. There was just something about her that made him go crazy.

In a good way, of course. A very good way.

* * *

I sneezed just as we stepped off the plane and into the Sydney airport.

"Bless you," Iggy said, his hand drifting up to keep hold on my elbow. New place, full of noise. . .he had to have help not getting lost. He was probably miserable. I patted his hand, silently thanking him.

"Max's mom said we'd meet the CSM people at baggage claim," I told him. "And there's only the one bag to claim, so we'll be outta here soon enough."

"Thank God," he muttered. "I hate loud places."

_"Moi aussi,"_ I replied. "So let's catch up and get the hell out of this place."

"Why d'you hate it too?" Iggy asked me as I led the way after Max and the others. She had a tight hold on Angel's hand and frequently looked back to do a head-count.

"Well, because," I said. "Everybody's talking to somebody else, and since they can't hear each other they just talk louder. It's stupid and there's too many of them and I FUCKING HATE IT WHEN PEOPLE CUT ME OFF AND WALK SLOW!"

I practically yelled the last part as Ig and I were forced to stop short for a trio of petite blond airheads. This happened _all the time._ Back at school (oh, geez, when was the last time I thought about school?), there were just too many idiots who shuffled along at half a pace a second and refused to let me get to class. And they didn't even have the courtesy to walk on the side of the hallway. They had to be _in the middle._ Clogging the hallways and jamming up traffic and just blocking all access to my education (and class clowning). And it just pissed me off to no end.

The impertinent little females who'd dared cross my path stopped and turned around to stare at me in disbelief. I glared back pointedly before forcing my way through them, pulling Iggy along and ignoring the uprising of their bitchy British shrieks at my rudeness. (Or perhaps they were Australian. But what did it matter. They put the Queen on their money, they're British.*)

Once we were out of earshot, Iggy chuckled. "Wound up, much?"

"No, just pissed. Seriously, some people have places to be. The least you could do is get out of their way."

My backpack wriggled at my side and I looked down to see Total poking his head out the top. As far as we were aware Angel was handling the surrounding crowd, making them think it wasn't weird to have a dog in an airport. But the little Scottie hybrid had insisted upon riding in my bag anyway. He "didn't want to get crushed." Lazy.

"I'd hate to be in your way," he said, twisting his head around to look up at me with bright black eyes. I reached down and ruffled his head, letting him lick my hand.

"Damn straight!" I lengthened my stride to catch up with the rest of the flock, as they'd stopped beneath the sign that read "baggage claim" and were waiting on us.

Dr. M collected her suitcase-the rest of us had packed just an extra change of clothes in carry-ons-and we headed for the exit. By the time we found the fancy-pants chauffeur holding a "MARTINEZ" calling card, I was probably just as frustrated as Iggy with that stupid crowded airport. A quick interrogation by Max assured the guy was legit, and we all piled into a large van to start our way towards wherever it was we were going. A scope-out of the arena where the show was supposed to be, I think, and then to the hotel.

It all seemed way too mundane. So. . .low-key. Boring, almost. Three days ago we'd been stickin' it to the man and screwing over Itex. Before that, we were stuck on that stupid cruise liner with our then-worst enemies. I'd just been running full blast for so long, sometimes on no energy and most of the time with no plan. Just as I'd predicted, I was already starting to get fidgety with this normal-life stuff.

Hm. Three days ago. . .three days ago had been the London conference. Two days ago had been the Norwegian beach day. Yesterday was when we landed in Miami and I'd, uh, "talked" to my dad. This was day three, then.

_Sy should be getting here today._

My heart skipped a beat at the thought. It felt like I hadn't seen him in forever, even though we'd been apart for longer periods of time in the past. Just. . .a lot had happened in that three days. A lot of big, life-changing things. Itex gone, anti-flock gone, finally getting back on track with the CSM thing. For once, I just wanted to see Sy. That was it. Nothing else. Please, Lord, I don't ask much of you. I know I take your name in vain and you're probably gonna send me to Hell for all I've done, but please, this once, show me mercy. A little bit of time, that's all I ask.

"Do we have to turn around?"

I blinked and looked ahead; Angel was twisted around in her place on Max's lap, and she was watching me. Everyone else turned to look at me as well, and for a second I was confused.

"Huh?"

"Do we have to turn around?" Angel repeated. "You know, so we can meet up with Sy?"

Ohhhh, yeah. Mind reader. Got it.

"Three days," Max said before I could answer. "You told him to meet us in three days, right? It's the third day, then."

"Well, yeah," I said mechanically. "But I don't know how he's getting her-"

"He's here," Angel said matter-of-factly. "I can hear him. He's thinking he should try to find where our show's supposed to be, and go from there. Should we turn around and get him?"

"I can get him on my own," I replied lightly, then looked quickly at Max, remembering my mini-epiphany about not giving her the respect she deserved. "If, uh, that's okay. If I borrow your mom's cell phone you can just call me and give me directions to a hotel. When you get to one, that is. Sound good?"

Apparently it did, but the "on my own" part didn't. So that was how I found myself back at the airport with Fang on my tail, making sure I didn't go on any wild detours or get kidnapped or whatever. You know. Doing anything I normally did.

So, unable to go on any magical adventures through Sydney itself, I was reduced to actually doing something productive in the airport. Looking up all the incoming flights from France (of which there were none), for one, and then those from the opposite end of the continent. Because who knows? Maybe he swam it.

We hung around where all the in-Aussie flights were coming in for a while, before Fang nudged my arm and said, "There."

I turned and followed his gaze. Sure enough, I found the head of silver hair that I'd know anywhere. I felt myself smile as I raised my hand and waved it in the air. "Hey, Westerfield!"

He responded, sapphire eyes turning to search the crowd. I half-jumped and waved my arm again to catch his attention, and next thing I knew he was at my side, flicking some stray hair over my shoulder.

"Hi," he said simply.

For a second I wished Fang wasn't there, just so I could indulge in my inner girlishness for one moment. But he _was _there, and there was nothing I could do about it. So I settled for smiling and flicking back at a rebellious lock of Sy's hair. "Hey, Fish Boy. Miss me?"

He shrugged. "Not really, no. But I had nothing better to do, now did I?"

Fang rolled his eyes and I laughed. "You lie, you lie like a rug."

"Wow. Haven't heard _that_ phrase in forever."

"Spark." Fang put his hand on my shoulder and I looked back. He jerked his head in the general direction of the exit and said, "We need to get going."

"Just wait one damn minute. God," I retorted rather nastily, shaking his hand off. I turned to Sy, then stopped. Sy's eyebrow rose expectantly. "Wait. When I called you, weren't you in France?"

"Yeah," he replied, shrugging a shoulder. "So?"

"Did. . .did you swim all the way from France?"

"Don't be ridiculous," said a voice from behind us, and I turned. And stared. There were a grand total of one, two, three. . .eight people there, ranging in age from Angel to Max. The girl who'd spoken was smaller than me, but nearly the same age, her red-brown hair tied back in a ponytail beneath her black hat.

Looked like the good part of the school of fish hybrids had tagged along after Sy.

"We swam from Somalia," said Arthur, contributing to his sister's conversation.

"Stopped in the Maldives," Aqua added.

"And the Keeling Islands."

"You mean Cocos?"

"They're interchangeable."

"Most people call them the Cocos."

"I call them Keeling."

"You're weird."

"_You're_ weird."

Wave sighed irritably and rolled her ruby-red eyes. "Oh, my God, you're _both_ weird, okay? Geez." She flicked her blond hair over her shoulder. "At least while underwater you couldn't talk."

In unison the twins turned to her, stuck out their tongues and crossed their eyes. "Neehh!"

"Oooh, God, don't do that!" Wave squealed, shuddering and backing away.

"Wave hates it when people cross their eyes," Aliza said, smiling, her white teeth standing out against her dark skin.

"So when the twins both do it at the same time, it really freaks her out," Nixie added, twirling a finger through her bright green hair as her eyes wandered through the terminal.

"Ahhh!" Six-year-old Janey pouted at the Nintendo DS she was holding. She turned to the boy beside her, tugging on his sleeve. "D.J., it's stuck again."

"Y-you guys are _all_ here?" I said, unable to think of anything else. "That. . .that's great!"

Fang touched my arm again. "Spark. . ."

But I ignored him. "You guys must've really hauled ass to get here in three days. But why're the rest of you here, I thought only Sy was coming."

"Yeah, about that." Kyla leaned her arm on Wave's shoulder and faux-glared at me. "Ya could've given us another day or two, blondie. We barely had a day to shop in France!"

"Oh, I'm _so_ sorry," I replied, rolling my eyes. "I apologize that you didn't get to waste two thousand dollars on new sunglasses."

"Um, excuse me?" The brunette reached down and pulled free a pair of ivory frames from her pocket. "These _are_ new sunglasses. And they were two _hundred,_ not two _thousand._"

"Good _God,_ woman!" I exclaimed, practically disgusted. "What are those things made of, the horn of a narwhal? Sunglasses cost two bucks, who the _hell_ wastes that much-"

_Heeeee-rrooooooo._

What?

"-mon. . .ey. . ." My enraged surprise ebbed (as did the epic conclusion to my sentence) and I blinked.

Had I really just heard a voice in my head? Like Max's Voice? Oh, God, don't tell me I'm like Max! But. . .hers was unidentifiable. Or so she said. Like, she couldn't tell if it was a human or a robot or a Gollum or what. I, on the other hand, knew what mine was. He was a boy. A cocky boy, at that. And he'd very distinctly said the word "hero," in a taunting manner, I might add. But. . .what the hell. . .?

An arm slid across my shoulders and Sy asked, "You okay?"

"Huh?" I blinked again and mentally shook myself. I looked up at him and saw he was watching me carefully, like he knew something was wrong. Nobody else was paying attention anymore, what with the twins arguing with Kyla, and Wave talking animatedly to Fang about something or other (he looked like he'd rather be anywhere else). "Yeah, I'm. . .I'm fine."

Sy frowned slightly. _Damn. He _does_ know something's wrong._

"I'll let it go for now," he said quietly, squeezing my shoulder. "But if it's something that's freaking you out, I _will_ make you talk about it."

I forced myself to smirk. "Yeah, and I'm sure that'll work out so well for you. Forcing me to talk and all. Because, like, it's worked for everybody else in the past."

He laughed and ruffled my hair. "That's more like you. Now, do we have a ride to wherever we're going, or do we have to acquire something?"

"Typical," I sighed, shaking my head.

"What?" he challenged.

"You automatically think we'd have to steal a car," I said resignedly. "You have the absolute mindset of a criminal."

"Hey. The last time we tried to semi-legally acquire some motorcycles, they exploded on us," he said with a completely straight face. "That'll teach _me_ to pay for stuff."

"True," I admitted with a snicker. "But I'm pretty sure the CSM cars are bomb-free."

"How refreshing."

"Ye-_hel_-lo!" I cried out as Fang grabbed my wrist and very forcefully dragged me a few steps away from Sy and the others. I wrenched my arm out of his grasp and glared at him. "Was that absolutely necessary? You couldn't've just _asked_ for my attention?"

"I tried. Five times," he said tersely. "But you were off in la-la land with your pet goldfish."

"Hey. As far as you know he could be part shark and very capable of beating your ass," I snapped.

"We can't do this," he said, ignoring my statement. "We can't bring all nine of them back with us, Max is only expecting one. And Dr. M doesn't even expect that."

"So what're we supposed to do?" I demanded. "Take Sy and run, leaving the rest of them to wreak havoc on Australia?" He rolled his eyes, reminding me very suddenly of Con. _Forget him!_ My fists curled and I went on in a whisper-shout: "They'd find us anyway, Fang, it's not like we're trying to keep that low of a profile anymore! What d'you want me to do?"

"Can't you just call Max and tell her what's going on?"

"Seems the logical solution to what seems to be a problem."

I made myself calm my breathing and rubbed my temple with my fingers. "Ya know, kiddies, Mommy and Daddy don't like it when you eavesdrop."

"Well, it's not like you're going out of your way to exclude us," Aqua said, wandering around from behind me so I could see her. She shrugged and folded her hands behind her head. "You're just standing right here."

"If you'd _really_ wanted this to be a private conversation, you should've gone farther away," Arthur suggested, coming around from the other side. "And perhaps you should've tried talking more quietly."

_Rgh._ They were annoying. "Just be quiet," I snapped, patting my pockets. I soon found Dr. Martinez's cell phone-the fact that it started ringing halfway through my search made it much easier to find. "Hello?"

"Spark, it's Max."

"Really, because I thought it was my lucky day and I was talking to Hugh Jackman," I said sarcastically. "Loved you in _Van Helsing_, by the way. Epic."

"I don't have time for this," she said impatiently. "We're at a hotel, and we're booking a room."

I swallowed. "Oh good. About that. Um, yoouuu shoouuuld try for a suite," I said evasively. I glanced around at Sy and his school and rethought it. "Or two. Yeah, probably two, unless you want us to sleep threesies."

"What are you talking about?" she asked warily.

"They sent us too many fish-kids," I replied bluntly. "I order one, they send me nine. It's like Fed-Itex isn't even _trying_ to please its clients anymore!"

Max didn't seem to find me very funny. She just sighed in a very tired, well-practiced way. "Spark. . ."

"What?" I protested. "Don't take that tone with me, you can _not_ blame me for this! In fact, you should _thank_ me, because if they want they can join us on the CSM tour!"

"Join us on the. . .?" I got weird looks from everyone on that one and hurriedly turned away to avoid the staring. Meanwhile, Max continued to yell at me. Joy! "Spark, that's too much to handle last minute! We can't just change the entire schedule tonight just for them!"

"But mermaids would almost be as cool as flying children," I pointed out. "It'd help us spread awareness and shit. So there."

"_Almost_ as cool?" someone said indignantly. I wasn't sure who. Maybe Kyla. "I'm offended."

A sharp blow came to the back of my leg, followed by Nixie yelling, "Who're you callin' a mermaid?"

My knee crumpled and I nearly fell over. "Ow! Goddammit, what was that for!" I shouted back, hopping on one foot and turning to glare at her. She flipped me the bird and I lashed out at her with my hand. But she darted back.

"Spark! This isn't over, get to the hotel _right now!_"

"Yeah, sure, whatever!" I said distractedly, still trying to chase Nixie down. And she just danced around out of reach, darting behind Wave, then Aliza, then D.J. "Just tell me where. . .get the freak _back_ here so I can _smack _you, goddammit!"

"It's like two streets away from where we'll have the first show," Max said irritably. "I can have Angel send out thoughts. But as soon as you get here, we have to talk."

"I think I get it, Max." I gave up on Nixie and she just laughed tauntingly. "You wish I wasn't such a nuisance, but I really can't do anything about that. Sorry. But just so you know, _this is not my fault._ I was just as surprised as you are when I saw them all. Bye."

I hung up and sighed deeply. I felt Fang's eyes on me, but did I really need to tell him the details of that conversation? No. He knew Max. He could guess what she'd said.

God, this day. It'd started out so _normal._ I had to remind myself to breathe in and out in a regular fashion so I wouldn't succumb to a panic attack. I crave normalcy, I crave adventure. I want to go home, I want to stay on the run. I ask for Sy, I get eight extra fish people. Max is my friend, she's back to wishing we'd never met. Somebody up there must hate me. My breaths became shallower and quicker and I closed my eyes, hands folded behind my head as I tried to control the sudden uprising of tension. So much for not panicking.

_Heeee-rooooooooo._

"You don't get along with Max so much, do you?"

"Wha?" I jumped and looked up at Wave, who smirked as she repeated her quesion. It still took me nearly a whole minute to figure out what she said, for the echo of the voice in my head still haunted me. Hero. . .? What was _that_ supposed to mean?

"Uh. . .n-no," I stammered. Sy was looking at me funny again, so I added a quick sarcastic comment. "Gee, what tipped ya off? The way we exchanged those heartfelt goodbyes? Or was it perhaps the flirty banter in-between?"

There was a chorus of laughter, and Kyla sidled up to Sy. Before he could protest her hand was in his pocket; he jerked and smacked at her arm, but in another second she was out, a plastic card I recognized pinched between her fingertips.

"Might I suggest a shopping spree?" she offered, waggling the card and watching me with wide, innocent eyes. _Ruby_ eyes. "It's not France, but I bet Sydney holds enough distractions to delay our arrival to her wra-aaath."

"I'd rather you _didn't _do that again," Sy said, rolling his eyes and sounding annoyed with Kyla. She looked at him, smirking. "It's like pocket-rape. And you didn't even yell 'surprise!' I feel violated."

I stared, mouth slightly agape, at a loss for what to say.

Then Fang said it for me. ". . .Pocket-rape?" he echoed disbelievingly.

And I just cracked up, the jittery tension from the past hour or so all just melting away into laughter that was only slightly hysterical. Ohh, my friends. Only they can be that weird.

* * *

*oh, house, you make me laugh.

i'm actually quite proud of this chapter. i made myself laugh multiple times just thinking about it :)

and, as always, until next time, my pretties.


	28. Chapter 28

NIAMHOOO DREW THINGS. go here (to the blackwolf folder) to see them:

itsniamh . deviantart .com

personally i really liked them, but if anybody else wants to take a pencil-stab at drawing the wonderful people from my story, they can. just email them to me so i can see :) oh, and i've been asked a few times about fanfics of my stories. those are acceptable too. so long as credit is awarded where it's due.

and yeah. . .that's about it. . .it seems a bit soon, but i just had to update today. . .'cuz the chapter was done. . .and it's 1/11/11. . .all those ones. . .it's so perfect. . .i couldn't resist. . .and i wanted 200 reviews. . .because that 198 has been mocking me. . .now i'm rambling. . .for no good reason. . .you're probably worried now. . .or maybe you're not. . .i don't know. . .maybe you're just waiting for me to stop talking. . .or maybe you just skipped this note altogether. . .so yeah. . .my hair's brown now. . .it used to be blond. . .my mom dyed it last night. . .while my dad was out bowling. . .i had a snow day yesterday. . .and it's still freakin' cold today. . .i wish we'd gotten a delay. . .i just rhymed. . .rhyming's fun. . .now i'm just rambling to annoy you. . .or to make you laugh. . .whichever is good. . ._white collar_ comes back next week. . .matt bomer is an incredibly good-looking man, by the way. . .so are the guys on _royal pains_. . .which also comes back next week. . .along with _house_. . .and _castle _already came back. . .a while ago actually. . .i'm running out of random things to say. . .my sweatshirt it red. . .it's actually my brother's. . .i kinda commandeered it. . .in the name of science. . .or something. . .i'm bored now. . .so i'll let you read. . .i guess. . .goodbye. . .

disclaimer: don't own maximum ride.

* * *

_**28. virgin snow**_

Canada was slightly chilly this time of year, but all of a sudden Avi didn't feel it. The wind bit through her clothes, but it was little more than a small tickle in comparison to the emotional impact of the words she'd just heard. On a little spit of land somewhere along the coast of a large lake in Newfoundland and Labrador, she literally stopped walking; the rest of them stopped as well.

Avi blinked. "Wait. _What?_"

"What's stopping you?" Con asked rhetorically, his eyebrow rising. He shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets and ignoring the quizzical looks from Blaze, Swift, and Shadow. "_We_ certainly don't need you anymore. And neither does Itex. If you really want to go home, you can."

Avi's vision blurred with tears. She was stunned, literally speechless. Con was. . .actually being _nice._ To _her._

What had _happened_ on that beach?

"C. . .C-C-Con. . .I. . ."

Feeling incredibly weak and very unlike herself, Avi put her hands up to her face as the tears spilled over. She _hated_ crying, especially in front of everybody. But, somewhere in her mind, she felt she had a right to cry. These past three years had been the most difficult times of her life-first getting the wings, then managing to escape Itex only to be brought right back. All throughout that time, she hadn't seen her family once.

_And now she had the chance to go back to them._

Blaze snickered, but not in a mean way. "I think you overloaded her brain with that one, Con. I didn't think she even knew _how_ to cry."

Avi sniffed and wiped at her nose with her sleeve. "Shut up," she said, but it was with a watery smile. "And. . .th-thanks, Con." She could've hugged him. But she didn't. He probably wouldn't like it.

"What're ya thanking me for? It's just common sense. Before, Itex would've done something about it. Now they're gone, so nobody cares."

Yep. Even when he was nice, Con still found a way to be mean. But Avi knew it wasn't intentional; he was just telling the truth. A quick peek at his emotions proved that. He was much calmer than he'd been in a long time-since this whole business with Spark had started, actually. Gone were the dark, angry colors that had dominated his mind, instead replaced by cool, mellow shades that just seemed laid back and chill.

Something had happened on that beach in Norway. Something big.

_Brriiing. Brriiing. Brriiing._

Everyone went still, and Swift stared at her. She, too, chided herself for not turning the ringer off on her secret cell phone. Seriously? How stupid _was_ she? Avi sighed and dug through her pocket for the phone, cursing herself over and over in her mind. Not much else she could do about now, right? Except for answer the call.

She looked at the caller ID, but it wasn't anything she recognized. Normally she just ignored those calls, but as she opened the phone to turn off the ringer a text message popped up on the screen.

**Avi answer the call its spark**

"Well?" Con said mildly. "Who was it?"

The phone started ringing again, with the same number as the previous call and the text.

"Who _is_ it?" Blaze corrected.

"Um. . .Spark, I guess," Avi replied awkwardly, and then she twitched. A sudden flare of that old anger that had for so long resided in Con had hit her like a punch. But just as quickly as it appeared, it went away. "Sh-should I answer it?"

"Do what you want," Con told her, his voice carefully even. The anger had left, but now his main emotion was a forced calm. A steely gray color. Like his eyes.

But she did as he implied and answered the phone. "Uh, hello?"

"Hey!" said Spark's voice, bright and cheery and yet sounding far away.

"Uh. . .hi," Avi said blankly. "Spark. Um, how. . .are you?"

Static crackled through the connection, making Avi wince. When Spark spoke again, her words sounded broken and choppy. But Avi got the gist of what she was trying to say:

"Avi. I need to talk to Con for a second, so can you put him on? Thanks."

"Oh. Sure." She lowered the phone and held it out to Con, who stared at it like he'd never seen one before. "She says she needs to talk to you."

He stared for a few more seconds, almost like he was debating whether or not he should take the phone and talk or just slam it against the nearest rock. But eventually, he went with the first option, and with a roll of his eyes, he took the cell and held it to his ear. "Hello?" he said dully.

Everyone was very, very quiet as Con listened to whatever it was Spark had to say. None of them could really understand-it was too quiet and murmur-y. Avi's guess was as good as anybody else's about Spark's words. That she thought Con was a dumbass? That Australia was really pretty this time of year? That the meaning of life was forty-two? That now that they were apart she finally realized she really did love him and felt the incredibly urge to declare it to him in a horribly impersonal phone call?

Avi almost smiled at that last thought. Con's face would be _priceless_ if that was it.

Apparently Spark had a lot to say; she droned on nonstop for two entire minutes. Eventually, however, Con finally got a word in. It was, "Fine."

And then he hung up.

"So what'd she say?" Shadow asked immediately.

"Nothing," Con replied quietly. He tossed the cell phone in the air and Avi darted forward to catch it. She glanced at Blaze, whose eyes had narrowed.

Yeah. Nothing, her ass.

If it was nothing, then why did he feel the need to disappear while the rest of them were asleep?

* * *

_Three, two, one._

"Go, Spark! Dive!"

I considered yelling out some type of obscenity to get Max to quit telling me how to fly, but figured she'd only get mad. So I resorted to waving at her to let her know I'd heard, then banged my feet together to kick-start the devices Iggy had strapped to my legs. Golden smoke seemed to erupt from my heels, coating the bottoms of my jeans in powdery residue.

They've done these air-show things before, Max and them. And Iggy and Gazzy had been plotting to amp up the entertainment level for a long time, so after a quick trip to various hardware and craft stores, they'd come up with Smokies: calf-length bags of colored dust attached to metal funnels. The devices are strapped to the legs, and the funnels opened or shut when hit with a quick blow of force (such as kicking), and once the dust hit the air it expanded to form a colored train of smoke. Same as what jets had, only cheaper. And travel-sized.

I tilted my wings and angled my body downward. Wind whipped my hair up behind me and the faces of the spectators below jumped into focus. There were thousands, I knew, and every single one of them was watching me following Nudge's orange Smokie tail back to the ground. For the fourth time today. I mean, I love being adored as much as the next kid, but I could only do this for so long before I got bored out of my mind. The rainbow tornado of colored smoke at the end was always pretty, though.

My eyes raked the sidelines, where Dr. Martinez was waiting with other CSM representatives. Beside them was sprawled the school, who were doing nothing for the day. There hadn't been time to locate and/or set up a large glass tank of water for them to swim around in, but there'd be one tomorrow. Or so I'd been told.

Sy waved up at me, and though I wasn't sure he could see it, I waved back.

Max had been absolutely _furious_ with him (and me, even though it was _not_ my fault) for bringing the others along. There'd been lots of yelling that had set my ears to ringing, and I'd nearly lost it myself. I mean, not even Fang had been able to calm her down for a while. (And just between you and me, for a bit I actually had the sneaking suspicion that Max's fury was due to a hormonal problem, such as that caused by a three-lettered bitch of a syndrome that attacks most women once a month. But thank _God_ I'd had the sense to not say it out loud, otherwise I'd be six feet under. And it better _stay_ not out loud, too, so no snitchin' on me!)

But anyway, after maybe the eighth time of explaining that it was really quite simple to add the fishies to the show, and that the fishies themselves were actually quite all right with doing whatever was in their power to make everyone comfortable, the beast lost its steam and was tamed. Sy and the others actually made quite an impression on Dr. Martinez, especially (for some weird reason) the twins, so she was completely at ease with the present situation. And CSM execs were positively ecstatic, to be frank.

So yeah. Last night's hotel stay may have been a bit rowdy, and there may have been some debauchery involved, but in the greater scheme of things all was well. For the most part. Some of us had headaches, but that wasn't much of a major problem.

I almost overshot my landing and ended up stumbling, nearly falling over into Nudge. A laugh rippled through the crowd, so I took it in stride and bowed flamboyantly. Smattered applause. _Yes, thank you, I'm amazing, I know._

By the time Max landed and the last cloud of her violet Smokie had passed over us, we looked like hippie children snatched from the sixties. My clothes were caked with the stuff, and my head felt heavy from all of that which had settled in my hair. Iggy and Gazzy had assured us that it'd wash out, but we'd just have to see about that.

Max's mom signaled us over to the sidelines, so we started heading over; in turn, she left the fish-kids behind to head to the raised platform in the center of the arena-field-thing, the CSM peeps at her sides. With difficulty I tugged my ponytail out, running my hand through my hair in a vain attempt to rid it of Smokie dust.

"This is going to take _forever_ to get out of my hair," Nudge complained, copying me and combing her fingers through her curly locks. "You guys _sure_ this washes out?"

"Ninety percent sure," Gazzy said.

"That it washes out _eventually,_" Iggy added.

"Oh, you better hope it washes out _tonight,_" Max threatened. "I am _not_ walking around with rainbow clown hair forever!"

We made it to the sidelines just as Dr. M's awareness speech began. I'd heard it before (three times already), so I didn't think I'd miss anything if I went and took a quick bathroom break.

I should've told someone. If I'd told someone, Max would've made someone go with me.

Ah, hindsight.

Even as I took my first step inside into the hall that would lead to the restrooms, I sensed something was wrong. I considered doubling back and just waiting it out, but. . .you know. Ya gotta go, ya gotta go. So I just kept walking.

Then I felt something prick my shoulder, and almost instantly the edges of my vision went gray and fuzzy. There was a chuckle from off to my right, and a hand clamped around my upper arm. A vaguely familiar voice said softly, "My turn, Hero."

I tried to resist, protest, cause a ruckus, raise the alarm. But my limbs felt like lead and my entire body was tingling; within a few seconds the world tilted and went black, and I felt myself falling.

Yeah, something was definitely wrong.

* * *

The speech had ended, and the applause was thunderous.

And Spark still wasn't back.

Aqua nudged her brother and jerked her head in the direction of the doors that led inside. He glanced over, then met her eyes again. One of his eyebrows quirked, and she knew he was thinking the same thing.

Sy wasn't back, either.

The twins had seen Spark quietly slip away after she and the flock had landed, but had made no note of it. Contrary to popular belief, it was in fact _not_ required by law to announce to the world that one was going to the bathroom. And besides, nobody had noticed. Spark would be back in no time.

Except that she hadn't.

When they'd seen Sy looking around for her, Arthur had pointed towards the doors, and so Sy had left. And again, neither Arthur nor Aqua had thought it important to alert the others. For all they knew Sy and Spark wanted to be alone for once. Who were they to deprive them of that? It wouldn't do the twins any good, they wouldn't get any fun out of it. Not this time, at least.

But that had been a while ago, back when the vet lady was still in the beginning of her speech.

So maybe now it was time to be concerned.

* * *

My head felt like it'd been packed with a ton of bricks.

I tried very hard to stay still, but the throbbing commenced anyway. Through the jumble of thought, pictures, color, and foggy memories, I tried very, _very_ hard to figure out what the flip had happened _this_ time.

_Not Itex,_ I managed to think. _Not Con. Wait, maybe. Don't know where he went. Where's Max? Sy? Flock? Where am _I?

A new wave of white-hot pain crashed over my skull and I groaned, dragging my hand up to cradle my head. But as soon as I moved, there was a weird, almost squeaky kind of noise.

I frowned, then moved my arm again. More odd squeak. I felt something encircling my wrist, something that was weighing it down, but for the life of me couldn't think of what it could possibly be.

My head pounded again, and this time I felt the pain radiate down, over my forehead, behind my eyes, down my neck and even to my shoulders. It was all I could do to not whimper in pain. I raised both hands to hold my head, and whatever was on my wrist fell over my arm. It was bumpy and weird and it was just so frustrating that I didn't know what it was.

I dropped my hands once the headache had receded some and opened my eyes.

And cringed.

The ceiling was blindingly white, like visual bleach to my sight. My eyes watered from the fluorescent lighting, but I forced myself to keep them open. Then, after some serious self-motivation, I lurched into an upright position.

The very first thing I did was look at what the hell was on my arm. It was a manacle, attached to a chain, bolted to the wall beside the. . .bedpost?

I looked down and saw that I was indeed lying in a bed. A white bed, at that, with white sheets and white pillowcases and a white comforter. On a white bedframe. With a white headboard. In a white room.

I'd never seen so much white. I turned my head this way and that, gazing around, but there wasn't much to see. Bare white walls, white ceiling, white carpeted floor. A door in the wall opposite the bed, painted white, with a white doorknob. A white table beside the bed, its surface clear; a white chair beside that, also empty. Even my chains were white! Well, the rubber that was encasing them was white (and that, actually, was what had made the weird squeak when I'd moved before).

And-I just realized-my clothes, shorts and socks and a loose muscle shirt, were white. An icy chill radiated through me, because I definitely had _not_ been wearing white upon waking up this morning. If. . .if that had even _been_ this morning. How long had I been here, exactly? It was scary to think I'd been out for longer than a day, or even more than an hour. Where the hell _was_ I, even?

Suddenly, there was the click of a lock and the door creaked open.

I tensed, awaiting whatever new demon the universe had decided to throw my way this time. I scooted away so my back was against the headboard, fists clenching until my knuckles had turned white. At least they matched my surroundings.

It was just a kid, maybe a year or so my elder. He was tall, more thickset than a bird kid. Broad in the shoulders, thinner in the waist. Almost human, but something in my chest screamed at me that he was far, far from it.

He had a complexion I'd only ever seen before on my brother, a type of golden color that made him look like he always had a light tan, even in the dead of winter. His hair, though, wasn't like my brother's. It wasn't blond, or brown, or black, or red. It was white. Not silver, like Sy's, or bleached, like my cousins', but white. Snow-white. Chopped short and funky, it stood up everywhere like he'd just risen from sleep. His face was thin and pointed, dare I say elf-like. Seriously, he looked like something out of a fairy-tale, or an old photograph from some forgotten time. He was wearing all white: shoes, pants, belt, belt _buckle,_ shirt. Even the leather holster at his side was white, complete with a pristine, white-handled gun.

And as if that wasn't enough, his eyes, too, were white. Or at least, a variation of it. More like pearls, actually, with that weird, almost rainbow shimmer that pearls have. It was difficult to tell where the iris left off and the rest of the eye began.

He smiled gently (showing off perfect, straight, _white_ teeth), then crossed the room to the bedside. He laid his hand on my head and leaned down.

I flinched away, my hand rising to slap his down. "What the _fuck_ do you think you're doing?" I demanded in the coldest tone I could possibly manage.

The boy kept smiling and tilted his head. "Well, I was _going_ to kiss you, but apparently you don't feel like it right now."

_Ki. . .? What the _hell_ is wrong with this kid?_

"Who the _hell_ do you think you are?" I asked incredulously, staring at him in complete bewilderment. "Where am I, where are my friends?"

"I'm Leander," the boy said simply. "And you're here with me. As far as I'm aware, your friends are still back with those Coalition to Stop the Madness people. With a few exceptions, of course."

He just sounded so _calm._ So. . .sane. Like it was the most natural thing in the world to be here talking to me. His voice had a weird, upbeat lilt to it, like he was incredibly happy for some reason. And. . .he sounded familiar, too. Like I'd heard his voice before. But from where?

"Are you all right, Spark?" Leander asked, still smiling serenely, still sounding amazingly elated. He was just so. . .rrrgh. He just _irked_ me. And not just because he'd kidnapped me.

"Actually, no, I'm not. I want to leave." I turned my back to him and flung the blankets away, swinging my legs to the floor. If I got enough leverage I could probably break the chain, and then all I'd have to do was-

_Click._

I froze as I felt the muzzle of Leander's gun touch my back, just between my wings.

"Aw, but you can't leave _yet,_" he said insistently. "The game hasn't even started yet."

I remained very still. Somehow I felt he'd have no qualms about pulling that trigger. "What game?"

"_Our_ game," Leander told me, and I felt the gun leave my back. I slowly turned back to face him, watching as he lazily polished the gun with his sleeve. "I've been watching you for a while, Spark, and I've never been more intrigued. I figured it'd be fun if you played with me."

"Played _how?_" I asked stonily.

"However we wanted," he replied, shrugging. "You could tell me stories of your childhood; I'm sure I'd have a lot of fun hearing you talk. And you're very pretty, too, which was why I wanted to kiss you. Maybe one day you'll want to kiss me back."

Okay. Now, I'm pretty sure the next two words will sum up Leander entirely.

Psychopathic. Stalker.

I took a breath to calm my desire to gag. I think I preferred it when only Con was obsessed with me.

"Um. . .all right, then," I said awkwardly. I cleared my throat. "So, uh. . .Leander. Why did you pick me?"

"I thought I already said I've never been more intrigued," he said. He lowered himself into the white chair at the bedside, folding his arms across his chest. He smiled at me again. "The fact that I'm now authorized to track you down only makes it better."

_Authorized?_ "So someone sent you after me?"

"Of course. And I think you know who."

"Itex?" I guessed, my heart sinking. I thought they were finished. Bankrupt. Kaput. So what the hell?

Leander laughed. "Well, technically I'm from the _old_ Itex. It was bought out, you know, by this guy called Stevens, and he just cleaned house and slapped a new name on it. Hardly anybody from the original corporation is left, and he wants to make sure all you rogue experiments die with that previous reputation."

"But he kept you," I said slowly. "Even though you're part of the old Itex."

"He kept me," he confirmed, nodding. "And a few others, too, I think. Don't know why he kept _them,_ but as for me, I'm pretty sure it's because I'm just too cute to kill. Stevens has a thing for boys, so." He shrugged.

I surpressed a shudder and took a steadying breath. "How delightful. Psychotic _and_ willing to cooperate with a pedophile. You're just one of a kind, aren't ya, Lee?"

"You are too, you know," Leander said brightly. "And I could make your special brand of Avian American go extinct, if you like."

My eyes darted to his gun and I fell quiet. Leander chuckled and went on. "But moving on. I'm pretty much the only one left from the old bunch, not including you runaways, of course. In fact, you could say I'm the last remnant of the group who ruined your life."

This kid was just downright creepy. He says I'm interesting and he wants to "play" with me, but then he threatens my life. Was he bipolar? Or just sociopathic? Either way, he was still from Itex, which meant that we hadn't stomped them out for good yet. Which was depressing. But he'd said this pedophilic Mr. Stevens guy had cleaned house, and wanted nothing to do with the old regime. Just what did that mean?

"So what about the new bunch?" I asked, and Leander's head tilted in slight confusion. "What's Stevens got in store for Itex now?"

"It's not called Itex anymore," he informed me. "It's 4Kids*."

_Oh, for Christ's sake._ "Okay then. What's Stevens got in store for 4Kids? Any more mutant hybrids?"

"Oh. No, of course not," he said non-chalantly. "Just mutations of regular human DNA. Things that will make normal humans stronger, faster, more intelligent. Stuff like that."

"Like you?" I asked quietly.

Leander stared at me for a while, and eventually his mouth curled up in half a smirk. "Maybe."

I swallowed, and very suddenly Leander's face brightened. "Do you want to go on a field trip, Spark?"

"Field. . .trip?" I echoed, confused.

"Yeah." He stood and bent over to open the drawer of the bedside table. He dug out a pair of heavy, white-rubber-coated manacles and straightened up, holding them up for me to see. "With certain limitations, of course."

I studied the manacles, then nodded once. The rubber was probably there to absorb any electricity I might try cooking up, but the chain was a decent length. If he tried to get my hands behind my back, I could easily step over it to get them in front.

Leander walked around the bed and gently took up my free hand. His touch was oddly warm, but it made my skin crawl, and I did my best to not shiver. He locked one cuff around my wrist, then slid his hand to my upper arm and pulled me to my feet. I obediently followed his touch and turned so he could unlock my right hand and cuff it with the other behind my back.

His hands lingered on mine for a moment before his fingertips slowly tripped up my arms, tracing my scars. I don't think I've ever tried harder to stay still in my entire life.

Leander made a slight _tsk_ sound. I felt his breath on my hair and it sent a chill down my spine. Leander must've seen me twitch, because he laughed softly and put his hand on my elbow.

"Come on," he said. "Field trip time."

I suddenly wondered just where he intended on taking me, and deemed that it was probably nowhere I wanted to be.

* * *

The stage was set.

Everything was perfect, flawless, ready and waiting to happen. It was like looking out into the backyard after the first real snowfall of winter: the snow was smooth, untouched, completely virgin to all dirt and footprints. It was impeccable.

Leander couldn't be happier. He had Spark, he had no other distractions, and he had all the time in the world to play. He could've laughed aloud with the ecstasy of the situation. He glanced sidelong at her, and saw she was keeping her head facing forward, her eyes staring straight ahead at some fixed point. Her hair, now clean of all that ridiculous colored powder that had caked it when he'd caught her, was tied back into that simple ponytail that she usually had it in. He'd brought in a nurse to clean her up, of course; it would've been immodest for him to do it himself.

He absolutely loved the color of her hair. It was golden blond, like afternoon sunlight. And it was so soft, too, like her skin. She was very warm. And she was his.

Well, almost. As expected, she was resisting entry to the game. But that was okay. He just had to show her some things, and soon enough she'd be putty in his hands.

Warm, soft putty.

* * *

*haha. to those of you who know of 4kids and what evil they wreak upon the world, that was for you ;)

so spark meets leander. how exciting.

and yet there is still so much more to come.


	29. Chapter 29

guess what? i have absolutely nothing of importance to say right here! so commence to your reading!

disclaimer: don't own maximum ride.

though, this story isn't very focused on max and _her_ ventures, now is it? so i probably don't need to put that there anymore. but i probably will, just out of habit.

* * *

_**29. field trips seemed a lot more fun when i was little and not a hostage**_

Let me just say, Leander's little hellhole of creepiness was quite dull. And creepy. Everything was white and spotless and positively sickening. Seriously. Had he never seen a rainbow? A box of crayons? A cartoon? I felt like I was in some sort of mental institution where the doctors thought color excited their patients beyond all control. Like where they sent Mr. Yang after she got caught in _Psych_. I bet she and Leander would just get along famously. They could compare notes about me and Shawn.

I would describe the place further, but there was really nothing to see. I had the feeling we were in some sort of one-story house, or a modular building like they'd had at my old school for overflow classes. It was basically just a hallway with lots of doors lining both walls. And that was it. No windows, no signs, no posters of kitties hanging from precariously high places with a little dialogue-bubble saying, "Hang in there!" _Nothing._

Leander seemed content to be as silent as me, so we traveled down the hall in silence. Until, that is, a door about halfway down the hall opened and a young woman stepped out.

I automatically slowed my pace to stare at her, shocked that there was another person there. Ol' Lee just seemed like a loner to me, y'know? But anyway, this girl here was slender, petite. Her hair was a very light blond, almost platinum, but softer-toned. (This lack of color was killing me.) Her eyes were light brown, kinda like mine. And also like me (and Leander), she was dressed entirely in white. But instead of shorts and tank top she was in a tight-fitting t-shirt and a miniskirt. And heels. Which, of course, I would never be caught _dead_ wearing. And neither would I be caught wearing it whilst alive.

Leander paid her no mind until she addressed him.

"Leander," she said lazily, and with a distinct French accent. He stopped and rolled his eyes.

"What?" he asked in monotone.

One of Colette's delicate eyebrows rose. "I dislike that tone immensely, Leander," she said coolly. "I have told you this before."

"And yet I still don't care," Leander replied, still with no emotion in his voice. "What is it you want?"

"What is it you wanted me to do with this?" She raised a hand, swinging something around her finger. I squinted and saw it was a fine, silvery chain, like a necklace. Something attached to it swiveled along its length, making a _krizz, krizz, krizz_ noise as Colette swung it around and around and around.

"Do what you like." He waved her off and put his hand on my arm, pulling me down the hall again. "Keep it, toss it, throw it in the furnace. I don't care."

"Wait."

I slowed and gazed back over my shoulder at Colette. When Leander realized I was preoccupied, he halted and also turned to look back.

Colette drifted out of her doorway and walked around so she could stand before me. Her eyes slid up and down my body in a way that made me fidget uncomfortably. It felt like she was trying to X-ray me or something. After a moment she stepped closer and put her hands on my shoulders, running them down my arms and shifting them to my hips once she got that far down. Then she started back up, fingers probing my ribs and making me twitch. What was it with people _touching_ me all of a sudden? She was just as touchy as Leander. Maybe touchier. _And it was freaky._ Seriously, was there a flashing neon sign floating over my head reading "Please Touch Me, I Yearn To Feel Strange People's Hands On My Skin!"

"What do you see in this girl, Leander?" Colette asked softly, keeping her eyes on me. "She's so. . .ordinary."

Her hands fluttered to my neck, almost like she wanted to help it hold my head up. I self-consciously swallowed, hoping she'd leave soon. Not that I have anything against lesbians (if that was what she was), but I just don't roll that way. Plus, she was being _way_ more forward (and freaky) to me than any other chick I'd ever met.

"Leave, Colette," Leander said, ignoring her question.

"But I want her to have what's hers," Colette said, taking her hands off me (thank God). She reached into a pocket of her miniskirt and held up the necklace she'd been twirling around her finger earlier. My eyes fixed on the focal point of the piece, an aquamarine stone shaped like a teardrop.

"Th-this isn't mine," I stuttered awkwardly, flinching as she came close to fasten the chain around my neck. It was a small chain, allowing the stone to hang just an inch below that little hollow in my throat.

She stood up on tiptoe and pecked my cheek, delivering a light slap to the other. "Yes it is," she said. "The boy had it in his pocket."

And then she just left, leaving me significantly disturbed. I stood very still in the middle of the hallway for about an entire minute, staring blankly ahead, only half-listening to Leander's explanation.

"You wondering who that was? Her name is Colette. She's just some whore I picked up while doing some work in France. I had to have _some_ help if I wanted to house an innocent young girl like yourself. So she'll be the one taking care of you when I can't, 'kay?"

One thing I noticed was that his voice had changed. Before, when Colette had been around, he'd sounded so uncaring, so flat. But now he was back to the light and upbeat voice that was full of puppies and rainbows and sunshine.

I was pretty sure he was bipolar now.

"Come on, Spark, the field trip's not over yet," Leander said, taking my arm again and guiding me down the hall. We kept walking all the way to the last door on the right, whereupon Leander let go of my elbow and held open the door for me.

What a gentleman.

With as much dignity as I could possibly muster, I strode into the room, head held high, fists clenched tight, ready to take on anything.

"What the. . .?"

"Spark!"

Except for this.

I stopped dead, my eyes popping wide and my breath catching in my chest.

"S. . .S-Sy?" I whispered, my voice barely audible. "Con?"

Yeah, they were there. Both of them. Leander had gotten me back in the stadium, so I guessed that's where he'd gotten Sy, too; how Con had gotten here, though, was completely beyond me. Sy looked tired, faint bruise-like marks darkening the skin around his eyes. Con, too, looked beat, but more like he was just physically exhausted instead of stoned.

And do you even have to ask? They were in white. Just like everything else in this goddamn place. Like the room. It was pretty much the same size as the other one I'd been in, but here there was absolutely no furniture. Unless painted-white metal braces pinning the boys' wrists to the back wall on either side of their heads counted as furniture, that is.

"Spark," Sy said again, visibly lighting up.

"Sy," I breathed, and took a step toward him.

But then a hand came down on my shoulder and Leander exclaimed, "Leander!"

I stopped, but I didn't look back at him. I just kept watching Sy, my eyes flickering every once in a while to Con. I was very aware that I was breathing irregularly, the way people breathe when they're about to have an immense freak-out. And I was pretty sure that's what was about to happen to me. God, why were they here? Either of them? Both of them? How had Leander tracked down Con?

He and Sy stared at Leander, who shrugged. "What? I thought we were saying names."

_Why are they here why are they here, they're not supposed to be here, what's going on, why are they here. . ._ My thoughts went into overdrive as my breaths became quicker and shallower.

"Who are you?" Sy asked him coldly. "Why'd you bring us here?"

_Why are they here why are they here why are they here!_ My head started feeling light and my head dipped forward as I lost my sense of balance for a second. The slight motion drew all eyes to me: Leander's out of curiosity, Sy's and Con's out of concern.

"Breathe, Spark," Con said warningly. "Calm down."

Automatically I shut my eyes and inhaled deeply.

I don't think I'd ever been so grateful for Con in my entire life. But it's not for the reason you think! To be honest, I was most grateful for his hair. As weird as it sounds, it's true, because Con's hair was the first shock of dark color I'd seen all day. Sure, it wasn't as vibrant as the blue of Sy's eyes, but at least it wasn't white.

Leander's hand shifted to my other shoulder, so his arm was lying across both. In a low, worried voice he asked, "Are you okay, Spark?"

"Don't touch me," I spat, jerking away and glaring at him. Leander blinked in surprise, and my knees automatically bent, my feet sliding apart in a type of defensive stance. "Don't _touch_ me, don't _talk_ to me, and don't try to _stop_ me from talking to my friends! You guys okay?" I added to Sy and Con, glancing at them.

"I'm fine," Sy said, while Con let out a dry laugh.

"Well, let's see," he began. "You call me up and say I have to get my ass to Australia by today so I can help you and Max take out a resisting mini-branch of Itex, so I start flyin' and as _soon_ as I touch down in Sydney, I get hit by a car and end up here. Does that _sound_ okay to you?" I gave him a look. "What? I've had a very sucky past couple of days!"

And all I got out of that was: _You call me up._

"I. . .didn't call you," I said awkwardly. "Nobody did. Itex _ended,_ it got bought out, there's no resisting branch."

"Don't try to. . .Why're you. . ." Con's diction skills sputtered and died for a moment. "You _so_ called me! Don't lie!"

"Why would I lie about this?"

"I guess I should step in here," said Leander, giving his hand a little wave to catch our attention. Tilting his head and smiling innocently, he said, "I was the one that called ya, Con."

I stared at him. How the _hell_ did he manage that one? Sy and me I understood, because we'd been in the same place, but. . .

Con shook his head in denial. "No. I know Spark's voice, and she is definitely the one who called me."

Leander smirked and reached into his pocket for something small and electronic. "You sure about that?"

He pushed a button on the device and we all waited.

_"Hey! Avi, I need to talk to Con for a second, so can you put him on? Thanks."_

Yeah, it was my voice. But no, I hadn't said it.

_"Con. I don't have a lot of time, so don't talk right now, got it? The flock and I made it to Australia, okay, but right away we were attacked and nearly got killed. They were those robot things we fought on the ship, remember? When we tried to escape? Anyway, we took care of them, but turns out Australia doesn't exactly function on the same level as the rest of the world. Their Itex didn't shut down, and they're after us."_

I glanced at Con, who kept looking from the recorder to me and back again, like he was trying to figure out how he'd been tricked. I was trying to figure that out myself. I had _never_ said all those words in the same conversation before. So how the hell had Leander done this?

_"So you have to get down here, okay? Soon as you can. Preferably in three days. If they know _we're_ here, they know Sy's with us, so he can't pretend to capture us to get us inside. But _you _can do that. You have to help us. You want Itex gone too, right? I swear, this is the last you'll see of me, if that's what you want. Just help us get this thing finished."_

And then it stopped. Still smirking, Leander put the recorder back in his pocket, probably leaving Con feeling as stupid as hell.

"That wasn't you," he said tightly, averting his eyes.

"Uh, ya _think?_" I replied.

"How'd you do that?" Sy demanded, and I looked at Leander again. He was smiling again.

"Oh, just some practice," he said lightly. "Not by me, of course. But by Colette. I had her listen to recordings of your interrogations, Spark. She was quite good, wouldn't you say?"

"Who's Colette?" asked both Sy and Con in unison.

I sighed and hung my head. "Why are you doing this to me?" I mumbled, not expecting an answer. "Why'd you drag them into this?"

"Hm." Leander approached me and laid his hand on my shoulder. I shrugged it off angrily.

"Spark, you have to stop playing with them," he said gently, in a tone that suggested he was breaking bad news to a small child. "It's my turn now. I brought them here so you can tell them directly that you're mine now."

My head snapped up so I could stare at him in astonishment. "Do you have any idea how _crazy_ that sounded just now?" I exclaimed. "I'm not _yours_, I'm not anybody's!"

Leander acted like I hadn't even spoken and continued. "Plus, I'm only doing this because I love you. I guess I'm just like those two, in a way. I only want what's best for you."

I laughed once, sounding hysterical. It just kept getting better! "You're insane. You are _ab. Solutely. Insane._"

I glanced at the guys, and Sy just rolled his eyes. Con scoffed, darkly amused. "Ha! I don't even _like_ Spark, let alone love her."

"Hm." Leander chuckled and shook his head. "The worst liar is he that lies to himself, Con. Remember that."

And then it just happened so fast. His arms slid around me and he turned me around and then he. . .

Well, what do _you_ think he did?

"Hey!" I heard Sy shout. _"Get off her!"_

Now, with my hands chained behind my back, there wasn't much I could do to push him away. But then again, my legs were fun and fancy free, just rarin' to do some stompin'. So I brought my knee up and dug my heel down into Leander's foot. He grunted and jerked back, which roused another evil chuckle out of Con.

"She doesn't like it when we do that, Lee," he said, shaking his head. I glared at him, but he pretended not to see. "If you really know her so well, you should have known that."

"What _I_ would like is for people to stop kissing my girlfriend," Sy added irritably. I looked at him next, feeling horrible and helpless and. . ._dirty._ Why'd he have to do that in front of Sy? Con I could care less about, but why Sy? He glanced at me and I realized I couldn't meet his eyes. So I dropped my gaze to the floor, feeling my face burn red. "I _really_ hate competition."

"But shouldn't it be about what _she_ really wants, Sy?" Con asked sarcastically. I could've punched him.

"I thought you didn't even like her," Sy sneered back.

Con shrugged. "I don't. But that doesn't mean she's not hot, dipshit."

Sy's eyes flashed red: a sure sign he was about to lose it. "Dumb fuck!"

"You two better both shut up before I get really pissed off!" I cried before Con could retort. I did my best to wipe my mouth off on my shoulder, and Leander chuckled. I rounded on him next, fury making my brain all hazy. I'd never been madder at anyone else. I'd never. . .I'd never wanted to kill anyone more. Not even after Con had tried to kill me.

"And _you,_ psycho, are _really_ starting to get on my nerves," I snarled at Leander. One of his eyebrows raised in mocking curiosity. "If you don't let me go, if you don't let _all_ of us go, then I _will _get out of these chains and I _will_ find a way to snap your neck and end your life."

The eyebrow came back down, and Leander's pearly eyes narrowed slightly, giving him a lazy, cat-like expression. "Is that so?" he asked coolly.

"Yeah!" I retorted ferociously.

"Huh." He fell quiet, as if thinking it over. "You're even more interesting than I thought."

Then in one fluid motion he drew his gun, cocked it, and fired.

* * *

_"SPARK!"_

Sy noted absently that, just like him, Con had gone even whiter than usual, and was straining just as hard as he was against his hand-brace. And it ticked him off. But what Con was doing didn't matter now. What mattered was that Spark was on the ground, bleeding. Unconscious? Yeah. Dead? . . .Not yet.

Leander propped his elbow in his hand, dangling the gun over his shoulder. A sickly amused smile twisted his mouth as he stared down at Spark, who was more than likely dying at his feet.

"Oh, Spark, look what you did," he said lightly, leaning back on one leg and lifting the other slightly. "Blood on my brand new shoes. And my pants, too." He _tsk_ed. "That'll take forever to get out."

Sy pulled as hard as he could against the brace on his wrists. The edges of the metal dug painfully into his skin; the stupid thing didn't even budge.

And Leander was just standing there. Watching Spark bleed.

"You fucking _ass!_" Sy shouted, abandoning his false calm. A terrible, familiar tingle prickled at the base of his skull, and he knew that Dylan was stirring, as he always did when Sy started to lose his temper. "_Help_ her, goddammit! She's dying!"

"Well, yeah, but not quickly," Leander said, shrugging as he holstered his gun. "I figure I have ten, maybe even fifteen minutes before she's _really_ in trouble."

Con had gone still, but now he swore loudly and thrashed, slamming his heels into the wall. "Why aren't my powers working!" he yelled angrily. "What _are_ you?"

Leander's jaw dropped in false astonishment. "Constantine! What an awful thing to say. I'm human, of course. Or at least I consider myself to be. Technically, though, my genetics say-"

"If you were really human," Sy interrupted before Con could, "you'd let me help her."

Leander slid his weird, pearl-colored eyes toward him, a light smirk lifting the corners of his mouth. Sy's heart was thundering in his chest, his pulse roaring in his ears. Nothing scared him more than the thought of losing Spark; it practically threw him into a full-blown panic attack. Ever since he'd witnessed Con's attempt to drown her, the dreams of growing up as an Itex experiment seemed like child's play. Sy's only nightmares now were memories of _that._ The drowning. How long ago had that been? Two weeks? Less? So much had happened in so little time, it was hard to keep track sometimes. . .

Sy swallowed and took a deep breath. He had to at least _try_ to pretend like he wasn't growing more desperate by the second.

_"Please,"_ Sy said. "The longer we wait, the harder it'll be to save her."

Leander frowned, looking down at Spark again. "Well. . ." He dragged out the word, toying with the thought.

"Leander. _Please._ Don't let her die."

But he still looked doubtful. Sy looked to Con for help. _Do something, you jackass!_

"Hey, Leander," Con said suddenly, and the white boy glanced his way. "Just think about it. If Spark's dead, you can't play with her anymore. And I don't know about Sy, but I'd be majorly bummed out if she died. I wouldn't want to play, either." Leander's eyes had begun to glaze over, as if he were deep in thought. _Come on, Con, keep talking. Convince him._

"You'd be bored again," Con said softly. "Do you really want that?"

That did it. Leander shut his eyes and sighed irritably. "Me and my damn lust for the interesting." He dug through his pocket and produced a white remote, resignedly adding, "It'll be the death of me someday."

Leander pressed a button on the remote and Sy's brace snapped open suddenly, cracking against the back of his head. The blow dazed him and he wobbled dangerously, but he shook his head and quickly made his way to Spark's side. From some mysterious place Leander produced a bottle of water and dropped it; Sy fumbled to catch it and unscrewed the cap. For once, he didn't think about the possibility of Dylan taking over. All that mattered was Spark.

He carefully turned her onto her back, forcing himself to breathe deeply and evenly. So much blood. . .but he couldn't dwell on that. Sy tipped the bottle so water poured over his left hand; pointed silver caps materialized over his fingers.

Dylan started poking at the back of his mind, but Sy brushed him off, ignoring him. He didn't have time to fight his alter right now.

Sy put his hand on Spark's chest, just over the wound. He noticed that, around her neck, was a fine silver chain, its tear-shaped, aquamarine pendant fallen back to the floor. They must've rooted through his pockets after kidnapping him, then. Kyla had picked it up in France and had ended up not liking it, so Sy had taken it and decided to give it to Spark once he saw her. Absently he wondered how Spark had gotten hold of it. And why the stone looked different than he remembered.

He moved his right hand towards hers, but the movement sent the water bottle's cap skittering across the floor. Automatically he grabbed it up and screwed it back on the bottle before fumbling to hold Spark's hand. She felt cold. He closed his eyes and pressed one of his fingers to her wrist, feeling for a pulse.

_One. . .two. . .three. . .four,_ he counted mentally. His heartbeat quickened-hers was half the speed of what it should have been, maybe slower.

His left hand jerked up, the fingers curling into a claw-like shape. The silver liquefied and dripped down onto Spark's chest, part of it cleaning, part of it mending, part of it sealing. Sy's head throbbed and for a second it seemed like his heart had stopped, too, but after a few quick seconds of holding very still, the pain in both places faded away.

And just then, Spark's hand moved, automatically tightening around his. Sy looked toward her face and was immensely relieved when he saw her slowly blink her eyes open. As he leaned over her a tiny laugh escaped him, a noise that was some odd cross between a nervous chuckle and a pant.

"Hey," he said, smiling.

She blinked, looking dazed; but then, slowly, she smiled back, and squeezed his hand. "Hey."

"Scared me half to death, you moron," he whispered. His free hand drifted up from the floor and started reaching for her face.

Then another shot cracked through the air and unbelievable pain thundered through his shoulder.

* * *

Con involuntarily flinched at the suddenness of the shot. Sy rocked back from the force of the bullet, then hunched way over, face to the floor as he no doubt tried his best to not make a sound.

"Hands off, lover boy," Leander said flatly, his face contorted into an icy sculpture of rage. He gestured with his gun. "Back up to the brace. Now."

Con watched as Sy, whose breath was coming in short, ragged hisses, staggered up and fell hard to the wall, uninjured shoulder braced against it to keep himself upright. The one arm dangled at his side, practically useless, while the other was clawed around the gunshot wound; blood ran like water over his fingers, the liquid red a violent shock of color against its eye-numbingly white surroundings. Con couldn't help but acknowledge a grudging sort of respect for the kid. He was tough. For being such a rat.

"Hands _up,_" Leander ordered, cocking the gun. "Back in the brace."

With difficulty, it seemed, Sy wrenched his bloody hand away from his shoulder, and forced the other one up, too. Leander strode across the room and kept his gun's muzzle pressed to Sy's ribs as he himself slammed the lock home on the brace. Only after the fish hybrid was sufficiently locked up did Leander holster his gun. He began to turn away, but quick as a flash whirled back around and sank his fist into Sy's stomach, right in the center of his torso. Sy choked and began to cough, finally spitting out a startling amount of blood.

Leander just ignored him, forgetting about his previously murderous intentions and turning back to Spark.

"So she's gonna live now, right?" he asked, sounding innocent and childish. "That's good. You were right, Con-if she'd died I would've been bored again."

"Glad to know I could help," Con mumbled in reply, keeping a wary eye fixed on Sy.

The other boy ignored him, his breath like a hiss; luckily his heart the bullet did miss.

Then Sy looked up, and Con looked away. Thought he was concerned? Pshh, no way.

Leander was no longer paying them mind-he was picking up Spark, apparently kind.

. . .Wait.

Why the _fuck_ was he rhyming?

It looked like Spark had passed out, because she showed no resistance to Leander's picking her up off the floor. Being a human-avian hybrid, Con knew Spark didn't weigh much, and wasn't surprised at the ease with which Leander was able to hold her up. The boy in white turned to face them, tilting his head and smiling like an idiot.

"Well, boys, it's been fun," he said. "But Spark and I have to rest for a while, and then we're going to play. We might come back and visit later, though. Be good!"

Con decided to not think about what Leander could possibly mean by "play." Seriously, the guy was like a child. Angry one minute, exuberant the next, ready to throw a hissy fit when things didn't go his way. He was a spoiled, bratty, psychopathic child. Kinda like Shadow, only older. And more evil and crazy.

_Tap, tap, tap, tap._

Con looked over and noticed that Sy was tapping his heel on the floor. At first he wondered why, but then he remembered that he'd been shot. Sy was still bleeding a lot, and Con hadn't seen an exit wound, so he deduced that the bullet was still stuck in there somewhere. Not the lungs, because he was still breathing, but higher up. All those muscles in the shoulder and back were probably shredded, and the shot had most likely nicked some bones, too. Glancing up to the fish hybrid's face, Con saw his eyes were shut tight and he was biting his lip. Direct your gaze north and you'd see Sy's hands clenched into tight, shaking fists.

Clearly, he was in a lot of pain.

_So the foot's a nervous tic or something,_ he thought. _Too much pain, and he's not gonna scream, so he has to let it out somewhere else. Weird._

Con turned to the floor, searching for the bottle of water. Having had his arms full with Spark, Leander had left it in the room. And it was just within reach. . .Con stretched his leg as far as it would go and, after a few tries, managed to hook his foot around the bottle. He pulled it back for a better hold, then kicked it across the floor to Sy. It bounced off the other boy's foot and he stopped fidgeting long enough to look up. Con just shrugged a shoulder.

"She'd kill me if I let you die," he said.

"Yeah, you'd deserve it," Sy replied in a strained voice.

Con decided to let that one slide, but when he saw Sy wriggle out of his sock so he could unscrew the cap of the water bottle with his toes, he had to say something.

"Really?" he said skeptically. "You couldn't've kept the sock _on?_"

"Quit questioning my methods," Sy snapped back. He had to use both hands to generate enough power to manipulate, but after a few seconds Con watched as the remaining water snaked through the air to douse Sy's wound. The blood seemed to disappear, and part of the water turned silver and vanished into the bullet hole; after a few seconds Sy went "Ah!" and a small, red-stained bullet popped out of his shoulder.

"Cool," Con muttered as the bullet dropped to the floor and rolled toward the wall.

Sy exhaled shakily, and Con looked up to see the fish hybrid had visibly relaxed. But he knew Sy was probably still sore-the water could heal, but it couldn't always erase the pain. Yet for some crazy, inexplicable reason. . .Sy _laughed._

"What's so funny?" Con asked warily.

"That Leander guy's a jerk," he said, half-smiling. "And I think I finally found someone I hate more than I hate you."

Con smirked. "Same here," he retorted. Satisfied that there were no longer any bleeding, dying mutants in the room, Con leaned back against the wall and tried to relax. After a few seconds' thought, he added (more to himself than Sy), "Then again, Spark comes pretty close."

Either way, Sy heard. "Hm."

"What? She never pisses you off?" Con challenged.

Sy shrugged, then winced. "W-well, yeah, but not much," he said. "I don't know if I could ever _hate_ her. The maddest I ever got at her was when she ditched me in a church parking lot in Utah. And I caught up to her a few days later, so it didn't matter anyway."

Con hesitated. "But what about all the times she's hurt you?"

"What d'you mean?"

He stared. "Dude. She once kicked you so hard you flew across the room. Didn't you want to kill her for that?"

Sy smirked and chuckled. "Well, considering the situation, I deserved it. And I probably piss her off way more than she does me."

That was just stupid. Spark was simply, inexplicably, and downright _annoying._ To _everybody._ How the hell did Sy think she was so perfect as to not be worthy of getting mad at? Con shook his head, saying, "That's insane. It's pretty much equal for me. We both annoy the hell out of each other."

"She _does_ hate your guts," Sy acknowledged.

"I know," Con said, unconsciously lowering his voice. "Sometimes it doesn't seem like it, but then she just turns around and annoys me again. And when that happens, I just hate her so much that. . .that I could just. . ."

Now _his_ fists were clenched and shaking. Con was aware that his shoulders were shaking, too, and that something in his chest was rumbling, but he didn't think it was that important. All he could really think about was just how infuriating Spark was. She was just so _stupid._ She never shut up, she was always sarcastic to the point where it was sickening, she refused to take responsibility for all her shitty mistakes, she always had to have her way, and. . .and. . ._ugh!_

Sy's voice suddenly broke through his thoughts, and what he heard was really odd-sounding.

"Okay, are you crying or laughing? Please say it's the second, because if it's the first, I just. . .no. No respect left for you, at all, whatsoever. None."

He hadn't cried since he was six years old. So that meant. . .he was laughing? That was weird. It didn't _feel_ like he was laughing, really. Or maybe it did. He wasn't sure why, but. . .it was just kinda funny. Before, the only thought on his mind had been, _kill Spark._ Now, though. . .as annoying as she was, and no matter how much she frustrated him, he just couldn't kill her. It'd be tough just to hurt her again. Hadn't he been freaking out, too, deep down, when Leander had shot her just now? She just had so much control over him. And she didn't even know it! So, yeah, he was laughing! His life was just such a living hell that he didn't even know what to do anymore. So, yeah, he was laughing. Because it was funny!

"You're a freak, you know that?" Sy said.

Yeah. He knew. He _definitely_ knew.

* * *

"Hmph." Leander smirked, watching the blackbird laugh hysterically while the silver boy rolled his eyes. Even when Spark wasn't there she had all the boys fighting over her. What a talented little slut.

Laughing to himself, Leander opened his eyes, turned, and started walking down the hall to Spark's room, carefully holding Spark away from his body so she wouldn't get any more of her blood on his clothes.

This was turning out to be more fun than he thought.

* * *

okay. soooo, con's starting to go a little cuckoo, sy just can't catch a break, and this leander guy's pretty much a complete and total _wack job._ ahh, i truly am evil, aren't i? what complicated little situations i drop my poor spark into. i only hope one day she can forgive me.


	30. Chapter 30

sorry for the delay. . .

but guess what. we're not even done yet and we've already almost caught up to _when sparks fly_. in terms of reviews, i mean. only seventy-nine more and we'll tie. isn't it just so exciting your heart could just explode into a million tiny hearty bits?

disclaimer: don't own maximum ride.

* * *

_**30. **__**"leander, thou art made for amorous play./why art thou not in love, and loved of all?/though thou be fair, yet be not thine own thrall." ***_

I woke up to something soft and cool sponging at my face. For one terrifying second I thought it was Leander; because, well, he's creepy like that. But then the girlish humming reached my ears, and I began to believe it was Colette. She was creepy too, but if I had to have anybody caring for me whilst unconscious I'd prefer it to be her.

I tried to breathe and winced. My chest _killed._ There was a hard, tight spot right in the middle of my sternum, and needles of pain rocketed from it every time I moved even just a little bit.

The humming trailed off-she knew I was awake. Colette said, "The boy is all right, you know."

_The. . .?_ I floundered in uncertainty for a few moments before I remembered. The shot, the healing, and the second shot._ Oh, God, Sy!_

I tried to jerk upright and immediately regretted it. In case you didn't know, the sternum is a very sensitive bone. Try knuckling a sternum sometime. The unwilling victim will probably punch you in the face in revenge.

Don't ask me how I know that.

Colette hushed me and pushed on my shoulder to make me stay down. "Oh, calm down. I said he was fine, didn't I?"

"D-doesn't mean. . .he didn't get hurt," I said tightly. "And that it wasn't. . .my fault."

The expanse of white ceiling was suddenly blocked by Colette. Her pale hair hung down, almost long enough to tickle my face. Staring me in the eye, she said firmly, "He shouldn't matter right now."

"What d'you mean?" I asked slowly.

"I have been here longer than you have," she said, still staring me straight in the eye. "And though I am not you, Leander has been bad enough to me. You need to leave."

"Well, gee. I hadn't. . .thought of that," I said, wincing mid-sentence as I actually sat up this time. I put a hand to my chest, fingering the sore spot. "Thanks for enlightening me."

"Sarcasm will get you nowhere," the French girl told me, and I turned to stare at her.

"What."

Her brows came together in confusion. "What?"

"Are. You. _Kidding me._ You mean to tell me all my sarcastic comments have been for nothing?" I exclaimed, faking astonished horror. Colette rolled her eyes and I pretended to fret. "This. . .this is awful. How will I ever go on? Sarcasm's just a habit I cannot break. What am I gonna do?"

"It amuses, but nothing else," Colette snapped, and I shut up. Her eyes were narrowed in anger, and I felt that same feeling I got whenever I realized I was pushing Max too far. "You. Must. Leave. Here."

"I would if I _could,_" I said. I raised my arm and jangled the rubber-coated chain. "But I'm kinda stuck here, Lettie. If you want to blatantly oppose Leander and help me out here, I'd be much obliged to carry out your request of my leaving."

Colette turned and sat down on the edge of the bed. "I can't."

"Oh. Okay. You want me to leave, but you're not going to help me." I lifted my shoulders in an exaggerated sigh. "What a pickle I've gotten myself into this time."

"Leander will know if I help you," Colette said. "He's probably watching right now."

I automatically glanced around, but saw nothing. Not even the glint of a camera lens.

"Not in the way you think," she continued, and I looked back to her. "His power is to see things. Things that are happening far away. It's how he knew what you were doing before he caught you."

"He. . .he was watching me?" Again I say: STALKER.

"Yes. And he will try to watch us now, but so long as my strength holds out I can block him. We don't have much time."

"Time for what?"

Colette glanced over her shoulder at the door, then back at me, her hair sweeping out like a dancer's skirt. "Listen to me," she said, leaning forward and putting her hand on mine-her skin was cold and dry, and she gripped my fingers urgently. Her voice lowered to a panicky whisper. "Leander is smart, and he knows what can break a person's mind. He will try to break yours. But as smart as he is, he is dumb when it comes to you."

"Okay," I said, staring at her in confusion. "What are you getting at?"

"Do you see this?" My breath caught as she reached for my neck and fingered at the thing around it. "If you want it, he will let you keep it. But do you know what it is?"

"Aquamarine?" I guessed.

She smiled gently. "Yes, the original is. But that is here." She reached into her pocket and held something up for me to see: an identical pendant pinched between two fingers. Her other hand came up off of mine and pulled my collar forward, and then she dropped the stone down my shirt. "And now it is there. Near your heart, yes?"

Okay. Dropping something down my shirt? Definitely one of _the_ weirdest things a girl has done to me. Not number one, but top ten for sure.

"I-if that one's the real one, then what's this one?" I stuttered out. That thing was cold.

"Diamond."

I blinked. "I didn't know you could color a diamond this color," I said awkwardly.

Colette smiled again. "I am talented, too. And so far, Leander does not see the difference."

"Well, okay, but what's the point of it?" I asked. "Why are you giving me a diamond?"

"Diamond is the hardest substance on Earth, you stupid girl," she said patiently. "It can cut through anything."

Aaaaand _that's_ when it hit me. _Diamond cut through anything._ Even iron. Which was what my chain was made of, underneath that flimsy coat of rubber.

I felt my mouth fall open, then hurried to shut it. I tried to speak twice, but finally managed to sputter out, "Wh. . .Why?"

"You are not Hero," she said softly.

_Hm?_

There was a creak, and both Colette and I looked to the door. Leander was there, leaning back against the door, watching me with those freaky pearly eyes.

He looked exactly the same as last time I'd seen him: perfect, white, and for some reason incapable of blinking. My eyes flickered to the gun at his hip and his mouth momentarily quirked in a smile. But then his eyes shifted to the French girl on my bed and that smile turned into a frown.

"Colette," Leander said emotionlessly. "What are you doing here?"

"What you said," Colette answered, an edge to her voice. "Watching the girl."

"Well, you're done watching. Tie her."

Colette didn't even hesitate to follow his order. She rose and picked a coil of rope (white, of course) out of the drawer of the side table, then set the chair in its own space. She grabbed my wrist and roughly yanked me up. I twitched as pain spazzed along my torso, but Colette paid my comfort no mind as she stuck me in the chair and tied my hands behind my back.

"And here I was thinking you actually liked me," I hissed as she tugged on the knot.

She ignored me, flipping her hair as she strode out of the room.

Leaving me alone.

Tied to a chair.

Helpless.

At Leander's mercy.

Oh, the places this scene could go. . .

(Get your minds out of the gutter, you filthy little dogs.)

For a while Leander just stood there, hands in his pockets, staring down at me, saying nothing. Not quite in the mood to piss him off, I just stayed quiet.

Finally, he asked, "Do you know who Leander was, Spark?"

"Some guy from Greek mythology," I said automatically. "He and. . ." I stopped mid-sentence in surprise.

"He and who?" Leander asked, smirking knowingly.

How did I not make the connection before? We'd studied it in Mythology, just a couple months ago. Hero and Leander.

It'd been Leander's voice in my head before. At the airport. It was him who'd been saying "hero." No, he hadn't been saying it: he'd been _calling _me it. He'd been calling me by her name. But. . .why?

"Spark?"

I blinked. "Hero and Leander lived across the Hellespont from each other, and each night Hero lit a lantern so Leander could swim across to meet her," I continued mechanically, as if I were in school reeling off the answer to a question. "One night there was a storm, and the wind blew out Hero's light, so Leander lost his way and drowned. Then Hero killed herself. The end. What's it matter?"

Leander smiled. "There are different versions to that story, you know. One says Hero fell asleep and forgot to light the lantern. Or maybe she purposely let it go out. Like you, she was a very interesting girl. Like you, she was extremely beautiful, and also like you, she used all of her talents to manipulate others."

"She was a priestess of Aphrodite," I snarled. "She did _not_ manipulate people, and neither do I!"

"Do you really believe that?" Leander asked quietly.

"Who exactly do I manipulate?" I demanded. "And _don't_ say it's you, because you're just some psychotic freakazoid I've never met before in my life."

He wandered around to stand behind my chair. "Here." He raised his hands. "Close your eyes."

"No way in hell I'm doing that while you're here," I snapped, twitching my head so he couldn't put his hands on me.

"Didn't you say that once to Constantine?" Leander teased. "And yet you slept anyway."

I shifted uncomfortably. "Th-that was different! _He_ didn't have it in for me at the time!"

"Well, whatever you say," he replied non-chalantly. "It'll just be more difficult this way."

I turned my head. "What're you. . ."

But before I could finish Leander had placed his hands on my temples and kissed my head.

* * *

_Images. Flashing rushes of color speeding through my mind, flickering behind my eyes. I manage to glimpse some things-a house here, a person there-but nothing is definitive. Just a swirling chaos of color, emotion, and sound._

_But then it stops._

_I feel dizzy at the sudden halt, and for a second I don't know where I am. I blink, and I can still see the white room, but superimposed over it is an unfamiliar place. It's much homier than Leander's room, and there's actually color and a sense of other people. But right now, all I see is one person, a boy sitting at a desk. Roughly my age, maybe a year older. His hair is light brown, and his eyes are green._

_It takes me a bit, but eventually I recognize the boy by the pictures arranged on his desk and his dresser. His name is Trevor, and he is the boy who was once my foster brother in New York City._

_I stare at him, amazed. Last time I had seen him, I was five and he was just turning seven. His father-my temporary foster father-and I had actually been going out to buy him a present for his birthday when a man in a black suit had tried to kidnap me. Kyle had tried to protect me, but he was shot in the back before we'd run three steps._

_I'd been sent back to the system after that. Trevor was crying when I was taken away, but not because of me. He was crying for his father, and I remember him screaming that he was glad I was going away._

_I don't blame him._

_But he isn't that little boy anymore. He's seventeen now-Con's age. But he doesn't look anything like Con: he's shorter, and buffer, and tanner. His hair is a different color. But something about his eyes is similar. . .a cold, hard glint that speaks of a rough past. Yeah. Con has that._

_"Ah, one of the very first," I hear Leander say with a hint of a nostalgic tone. "Your foster brother, whose father died because of you."_

Think I don't know that?_ I think miserably, my eyes stinging as I notice one particular photo. It's from when Trevor was little, when Kyle was still alive. Trev's on his dad's shoulders, laughing, and Kyle is smiling widely as well. There's a small hand holding Kyle's, and part of an arm is visible, but before it gets to the shoulder the picture ends in a jagged rip._

_Three guesses as to who belongs to that arm._

_I lift my right hand and look at it, slowly curling it into a fist, then letting it go. I'm so much bigger than I was back then. Ten years does a lot to change a kid._

_Suddenly, Trevor moves. He reaches across the desktop and picks up the picture I'd just been looking at. He stares at it, no expression on his face. Then he sets it down, and opens a drawer in the desk. He reaches inside and pulls out two things: a crumpled piece of paper and a lighter._

_He smoothes out the paper best he can, and I realize with a jolt that it's not paper-it's a photo. More correctly, it's the other half of the one in the frame. It's me. From when I was five. I'm smiling, maybe laughing. But whichever it was, it's clear that I was happy._

_Trev stares at this one, too, for a while, but then he flicks on the lighter and holds the flame to the picture's edge. Fire consumes all evidence that I was ever in his life._

_After leaving the photo to burn itself to ashes at the bottom of the trash can, Trevor folds his arms on his desk and hunches over to bury his head._

_"See?" Leander's voice is soft, suggestive, like what a cunning snake hisses in your ear. "Even after all these years, you're still hurting him."_

_As much as I hate to admit it, he's right. It's my fault Kyle was killed-that man had been trying to kidnap _me._ And no matter who you are, it hurts when your dad dies. Maybe for some more than others, but it hurts. For Trevor. . .I guess it still hurt. A lot. It has to be hard growing up without your dad. There's just no one quite like him._

_"You're still affecting him," Leander whispers._

_If only I hadn't run ten years ago. Sure, my life would suck, but Trevor would still have his dad. And maybe the anti-flock wouldn't be so screwed up._

_Leander chuckles. "Wanna see who else you're still manipulating?"_

_Why is he even asking? It's not like I have a choice in the matter. He's probably just going to do it anyway._

_"Let's see. . ."_

_Trevor and his room swirl away, only to be replaced by a classroom. It's simple. Four walls, one of them glass. Silly posters about homework and paying attention. Roughly thirty desks, faux-wood tops welded to metal legs and plastic chairs. I look around for a clock, but its face is blurred. Is Leander doing that? Does he want me to not know the time?_

_Why'd it even matter. It's hard to keep track of anything these days, let alone school. Especially considering I'm not there and all._

_A bell rings, and the students mobilize. They all find desks as a teacher rises from her own desk at the back of the room. She goes to the board and writes her name. . .but it, too, is blurred. I don't know what it says, but considering it's what, September? She's probably a sub. She calls for quiet to the babbling teenage chatter and opens a planner, beginning to read out names._

_"William Abignale," she says. A hand goes up._

_"Just Will. Here."_

_"Nicole Ackerly."_

_Everybody falls silent, some looking around uncomfortably, others staring at their desks. These who stare are ones I recognize. My friends. Jack, Greg, Brittney. Kelly. Jenny. Oh, God, when's the last time I saw these guys? And yet they look the same as when freshman year ended. No, that's not true-Jack's even taller, if possible, and Brittney's hair is shorter._

_And they are all wearing those bracelets, like the yellow LIVESTRONG ones. Only these ones are blue, white, and black. And they don't say "LIVESTRONG." No, they say something else._

_The teacher looks up. "Nicole Ackerly?"_

_All at once, my five friends either look at or touch their bracelets. The ones that bear my name, my date of birth, and my supposed date of death._

_Itex killed a clone of mine, remember?_

_"She, uh, doesn't go here anymore," one boy says to the teacher._

_"She. . .died," adds another kid._

_"Oh," the substitute says, looking confused. Then it hits her. "Oh! Oh, my gosh, I can't believe I didn't recognize that. Oh, I'm so sorry, why is she. . .oh, dear."_

_Jenny sniffs loudly and tucks a strand of red hair behind her ear. Greg, sitting behind her, leans forward and puts a hand on her back, but she stands and hurriedly exits the room._

_"Aww. She still misses you," Leander teases. "They all do. Never knew how much of an impact you had, did you?" He laughs. "When you were here you dominated their lives with your love and charm, and now that you're gone they're like lost little puppies wondering where their mommy went. It's almost sad."_

_"Please stop," I mumble. I don't need to see any more of this. It's bad enough that I had suspicions about this, but did he really need to shove it in my face like this?_

_Okay, so maybe I didn't know what the butterfly effect of my "running away" would do. I was vaguely aware that people would wonder and maybe talk, but I didn't think they'd ever find a body and presume I'm dead. I didn't think I'd be the cause behind so much pain and suffering. I'm the one who cheers people up, not the one who brings them down._

_In the myth, Hero was loved by her people. And she knew that. But she still killed herself once Leander died, just to escape having to live with the guilt._

_I guess I knew I would hurt my family by not going home. But I still did it, just to keep running around with the flock._

_I think I understand the analogy now._

_I think I know why he's calling me Hero._

_

* * *

_

The pictures suddenly vanished and the shock of the sudden whiteness was like a sucker-punch to the face. I shuddered and felt dizzy, nearly puking my guts up all over Leander's pretty white floor. He released my head and walked around to stand in front of me; he kneeled down and grabbed my chin, forcing me to look into his eyes.

"I told you to close your eyes," he said softly. "Next time it would bode well for you to listen, hm?"

I pulled back, and then did something rather childish and reminiscent of _Titanic_: I spat in his face.

"Next time it would bode well for you to not _kidnap_ me, hm?" I snapped back. Leander lifted a hand to wipe his cheek with his sleeve and I sprang into action. I rocked back in the chair and snapped my legs out into his chest. He flew back and my chair landed on all four legs again-I stood up, easily slipping my hands up and over the back of the chair. Colette had only tied them behind me, not to the chair itself.

Maybe she really was trying to help me after all.

I ran for the door, unable to resist kicking Leander again on my way. He twisted and made a grab for my ankle, but I leapt over his hand and shouldered through the door.

_Okay. Um, right? Right. Can't go left._ I took off down the hall, thinking if I could make it to where Sy and Con were being held, we'd be okay. Three on one wouldn't be that hard. I'd need something to break those metal braces on their hands, though. Maybe Colette. . .?

My eyes throbbed and pain spiked through my skull. I stumbled, but kept on-I knew I could make it out. I just had to get to Con and Sy. I'd been through worse. I could make it.

Oh, me and my silly excuse for self-motivation.

Images flashed across my sight, just like before when Leander was showing me those things that were going on in my friends' lives. Only these weren't complete scenes: these were just snippets, miniature clips of whatever from whoever.

_Jack, my friend from middle school, staring down the barrel of a gun that he was holding._

_Kenny, my sister, drawing a razor across her wrist._

_Trevor, my first foster sibling, draining a bottle of booze and throwing it at a wall._

_Claire, my senior friend from last year, staring at my signature in her yearbook and crying._

_Mom, kneeling at a grave that bore my name._

And it just kept going. Practically every face I could possibly remember looped across my mental theater, doing some awful, depressing thing. Crying. Cutting. Burning something. Taking something. Getting in fights, hurting people. Hurting themselves.

And the whole time, I couldn't help but feel that it was all because of me.

At some point I realized I was no longer running, and was instead just crumpled down on my knees in the middle of the hallway, staring at the floor in horror. I hadn't been running hard, but I was panting anyway.

_My fault. My fault. It's all my fault. All this pain and suffering is all my fault._

It played over and over again in my head, like some horribly annoying commercial jingle. It filled my mind, took over every other thought. Saving Sy? Con? Busting out? No, not anymore. All I could think now was, _it's all my fault._

I was barely aware of anything until Leander came up behind me and dragged me to my feet by the collar of my shirt. He pulled me back to the white room, and sat me on the white bed, and shackled my wrist to the white chain bolted to the white wall.

And the truly sad part?

_I didn't even resist._

* * *

It was truly, truly fascinating.

First time he'd used his power on someone else, and made someone else see something happening on the other side of the world, they'd thrown up. The contrasting images of here and there just made them so sick that they lost it. _And Spark hadn't even blinked._

He had to hand it to her. She was tough. Spitting in his face like that? And then kicking him, and making a break for it? God! How _mind-blowing_ was that? He, he. . .he had never been so pleasantly surprised. Astounding. He had never felt so. . ._alive._

Spark was even better than he'd imagined-then again, reality was always better than fantasy, eventually. He knew that now. It was so great. _Spark_ was so great. He couldn't wait until she started loving him back. And she would. Because she was Hero.

And even the Hero of legend tried to deny Leander's advances at first. But eventually, she gave in.

And the same would happen here.**

* * *

*lines from christopher marlowe's poem "hero and leander"

**insert evil laughter here.

bleegghh. colette's just a random, pointless plot device to help the story along. if you don't like her, then i apologize. i'm not that fond of her myself.

but at least i updated! i promise to never again leave you waiting for a new chapter for a period that extends beyond fourteen days.


	31. Chapter 31

yes, it's been a while, but if you count i have not exceeded the fourteen-day-deadline i set for myself last chapter.

it's only been thirteen days :P

disclaimer: don't own maximum ride.

* * *

_**31. temperament**_

He'd considered ignoring Con's summons that day. All those weeks ago, when they'd still been in Salt Lake.

Sy had already hunkered down and fallen asleep when Aqua started hammering on his door, calling out that Constantine needed him for something. But the bed was so warm, and he'd had a really long day, and he was just so tired. . .but Aqua kept at it. She got annoying about it, too, threatening to kick in the door and drag him out if he didn't get his ass up already and go. So he forced himself to get up out of bed and stumble off to see what it was Con wanted.

For some reason, the bird boy was waiting in the entrance to their underwater corral. Leaning against the wall and twirling a pen in his fingers, he looked like he didn't have a concern in the world.

And at that time, he didn't.

"Why the hell are you depriving me of sleep that I so desperately need right now?" Sy did his best to stifle a yawn, but didn't quite succeed; there was a giant pause between "so" and "desperately" that made Con smirk.

"Two reasons," Con replied, holding up two fingers. "One: so you can do me a favor, and two: because I just love disrupting people's lives. It amuses me."

"Do _you_ want a life disruption?" Sy inquired crossly, glaring. "Because I can arrange that quite easily."

"Look, it'll take five minutes. All I want you to do is to swim out, get the blond one, and bring her back. Easy."

He paused. "What are you talking about?"

Casually inspecting his fingernails, Con explained. "Surveillance videos from yesterday show that a couple of. . ._mistakes_ were poking their beaks where they don't belong. And about ten minutes ago, said mistakes returned so three of them could pop down and spy on you guys."

"So there's people watching us," Sy said. Con glanced at him and Sy shook his head. "I'm sorry, but I don't see why that concerns me."

"Bring me the blond one in the gray shirt or I'll cause trouble for the Cordellas," the other boy replied, shrugging. "Your choice."

Sy's jaw clenched; he suddenly felt wide awake. Aqua and Arthur got into enough mischief on their own, and paid for it dearly; they didn't need the extra "trouble" Con was capable of causing.

"You're a dick," he mumbled angrily, kicking off his shoes and going to the floor's edge. Con chuckled darkly, so when Sy jumped into the water he made sure a fair amount of it splashed back. He didn't know for sure if he managed to hit Con or not, but he liked to think that he did.

It didn't take long to find them at all. There were only so many places where you could hide and still see the gates to the Lab, and Sy caught them in the second place he looked.

And there she was, hiding with the other two, Max and Fang. All three were spying on the underwater fish-kid corral, squinting at the salt in the water, their hair floating about their heads in silky waves.

Spark's hair had been longer than Max's then. And blonder.

He'd expected her to struggle, but what he hadn't banked on was for her to struggle so _much._ She pounded every part of him she could reach, delivering bruises even through the smooth, armor-like silver scale that encased his torso. And when she dragged her nails across his arms? _Ouch_.

Little did anybody know, she very nearly escaped him that night. Spark was strong, she did damage. The only reason he managed to get her inside was because he swam so fast she didn't have time to break him. One of those good thing/bad thing situations. Good thing was his successful capture of her led to their entire relationship. Had she escaped, he never would've saw her again. Bad thing was. . .well, all the bad stuff that had happened since then. The fleeing, the kidnappings, the general Itex awfulness. This.

"EXCUSE ME."

Sy jumped at the sound of Con's voice and looked over at him.

Con's flinty gray eyes were narrowed and irritated as they glared at Sy. "Have you been listening to me, like, at _all?_" he demanded.

Sy blinked. _Whoa. Dude, I _zoned OUT._ Big time. Whoa._ "You were talking?"

"Oh, my. . ." Con shook his head in disbelief. "You're worse than she is."

"I am not," Sy retorted defensively. Spark zoned out _way_ more than he did. And you could always tell, too, because her eyes would sort-of glaze over as they unfocused, and sometimes she'd start playing with her hands-twisting, tapping, lacing and unlacing the fingers.

"I have been talking to you for five straight minutes," Con told him. Sy blinked, returning to the conversation. "You are worse than she is."

"You only have yourself to blame on that one," he countered. "You didn't notice I wasn't responding for five straight minutes."

Con rolled his eyes and Sy smirked in satisfaction.

"What were you even thinking about, anyway?"

"Nothing," he said, perhaps a bit too quickly. "What was it you were trying to say to me, though?"

"Is there really no way for you to get us out of these things?" Con said, wriggling his hands to indicate the braces on his wrists. "I know _I_ have nothing to help in this, so I'm asking you. You're supposed to be good at this stuff."

"Well, sorry to disappoint you, but I'm kinda stuck on this one," Sy said. "My hands are too big to slide out, and the metal's too tight on my wrist for me to bend it. When your hands are bound, you try to use your feet, or even your head. How_ever,_ in case you didn't realize, these stupid braces are positioned very awkwardly. I really can't do anything." He pointlessly rattled his wrists in the braces: about four inches of white metal pinning his arm to the wall, on either side of his head, he had to slouch if he didn't want to kill his shoulders. Sy shrugged. "We're screwed."

Con groaned. "You are completely useless. I'm actually starting to think all that hype about you being able to escape anything is just talk."

His mother always _did_ like to brag. Yes, he was good at escaping, but no, it wasn't like he was the Houdini of the modern age. "Yeah, yeah, exaggerations are the devil. Either way, _we're screwed._" _Which means Spark's screwed, because you just can't trust anybody to handle something like this on their own._

"Not even the water?" the bird kid persisted. "Can't you do _anything?_"

Sy looked down at the bottle lying at his feet. There was a little liquid left inside, but no. He shook his head. "I'm better at using water to heal. _I_ actually can't do damage with it unless it's silver on my hands."

Con took a deep breath. "Completely useless."

Truth was, of all the escape situations the scientists had put him in, they hadn't done one like this. Not yet. And when he'd thought about it, he'd never known exactly _how_ he'd manage to get out of it. How convenient for Leander.

Sy scowled as the white boy appeared in his mind. Creep. What'd he want with Spark, anyway? Yeah, she was pretty, smart, funny. But so were a lot of girls. Why couldn't he have kidnapped one of _them?_ What was so special about Spark, beside, well, the obvious?

_Well, why do _you_ like her?_ a voice asked in his head. Other people just had their subconscious, or their conscience. Sy had Dylan. Lucky him.

He started to visualize Spark-not as he'd last seen her, broken and bleeding, but as she usually was: smiling, laughing. Vividly alive. Dylan started talking again, his words swirling around the mental image of Spark in coils of red smoke. _She's an enigma. She's pretty, but doesn't flaunt it. Smart, but doesn't care. She wants people to laugh off their worries even when she herself is dying inside._

_What's so bad about that?_ Sy thought back. _Sometimes people just need a laugh._

_And other times people need to focus on the matter at hand. Like you._ Sy rolled his eyes. _You know she can't escape without help, but you're doing nothing to provide it. Here you are thinking about _her_ when you _should_ be thinking of ways to help yourself first. _That's_ why Leander wants her. She consumes every other thought and is always a cause for distraction. That's very useful, in the long run. Especially considering her natural charm is only one arrow in her quiver._

"Hey!" Con whistled as if at a dog. "Pay attention! Geez, you really _are_ as bad as she is."

Sy groaned softly. "What are you saying _now?_ I thought it was established that we're screwed."

_Hey! I wasn't done talkin' to you yet!_ Dylan fumed. Sy ignored him.

"Hell, even if we _did_ manage to get out of this, Leander would be on us in a second," he said. "If we figured out a way to get out, we'd have to wait until right after he left before doing it."

Con's eyebrow rose. "Why would we have to wait?"

"He's obviously got cameras all over the place," Sy said impatiently. "The only time we'd be sure he's not watching them is right after he left from a 'visit' with us. And there's no way of telling when that'll happen again."

"There aren't any cameras in this room," Con corrected.

"Oh really?"

"Uh, yeah. You haven't been talking to me at all, so I've had to stare at the walls this whole time," he said with a shrug. "There are no cameras that I can see."

Sy rolled his eyes. "What about the ones you _can't_ see?" he challenged.

"Non-existent. I know when there are hidden cameras, and there aren't any in this room." Sy knew Con wouldn't lie about that, so. . .

_That can only mean he's watching us using some other method,_ Sy thought.

_Clever,_ Dylan said sarcastically. _Is that what she fell for? Your incredible intelligence? Or is that just a bonus to our admirable looks?_

_Shut up,_ he snapped venomously_._ And then to himself he wondered,_ How can he watch us if there's no feed into this room?_

But before he could think, Con interrupted his thoughts. "And back to what I was _saying_, is there anything that other you can do?"

He blinked. "Other me?"

Dylan laughed. _God, you're dumb._

"You know, the red-eyed jackass version," Con clarified, and Sy felt something sink inside. _Dammit._ "Isn't he stronger than you?"

_Yes._ "No."

"Oh." Con looked disappointed. "Really? There's not anything he can do?"

_Sure there is._ "Nothing that would help."

_Liar,_ Dylan said softly, his voice barely audible and yet so, _so_ there.

"Okay, are you _sure?_" Con asked. Sy carefully averted his eyes; sometimes lying wasn't easy. "Because, really, Sy, we don't have a lot of options here. Lying would be stupid."

_Come on,_ Dylan whispered. _I can _help._ Constantine's right-I'm your only shot here, Poseidon. Just let me out. You've had control of the body for long enough; now it's my turn._

Sy discovered that it was, in fact, possible to stutter while thinking. _Sh-shut up._

"Hello?" Con said loudly. "What is with you today, you keep zoning out. Do I have to come over there?"

"Sh-shut up," Sy said tightly, echoing his thought aloud.

His fellow prisoner gave Sy a funny look. "Um, you _do_ know I can't really go over there, right? What's the deal?"

_You might as well tell him,_ Dylan said carelessly. _He'll find out sooner or later. So go on._

Sy's head suddenly felt very full and pressured. It didn't help that his shoulder was still pounding from Leander's shot, extra pain to add to his headache. Yeah, Dylan could probably help. He was better with water, so maybe he could do something. But that was a _maybe._ Sy didn't want to be wrong. He didn't want to let Dylan out and then. . .lose himself in the process.

". . .He might," he finally said haltingly. "He might be able to help."

"Who?" Con straightened up in interest. "Dylan? Thought you said he couldn't."

"You have to know by now that I lie sometimes," Sy replied in a weak attempt at a joke. Con just rolled his eyes. "But. . .the thing is, it was hard enough getting back last time. I don't want him to. . .take over, or anything."

His alter chuckled. _Weak._

Con scoffed. "Oh, come on, don't be a pansy-ass," he chided. "Just call him out, break out, and before you go all psycho I'll yell out dirty things I'd like to do to Spark."

Sy froze up while Dylan laughed in delighted surprise. _Whoa! Did you hear that?_

"If just kissing her made you freak out last time, then man, I can only imagine what would happen if I said I'd-"

_If you what?_

"Shut _UP!_"

Con smirked. "Whoa. Did I touch a nerve?"

Uh, yeah. He did. Sy stared pointedly at the floor so he wouldn't see Con's triumphant, cocky expression. Just. . .just _thinking_ about. . .him. . .and Spark. . .

And of course Dylan had to get in on it. _Con and Spar-ky, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!_

"Don't _remind_ me of that," Sy snapped, fighting to keep his voice even. "It's bad enough I get nightmares of you killing her, I don't need to. . ." He broke off, shaking his head as he realized what he'd said. _Yeah, tell him about my nightmares. Great!_

And oh, did Con jump on that one. "You dream about her? _And_ me? Like how much? Every night? Am I always killing her? Or do I do other things?"

"Don't be an ass," he interrupted fiercely. "Just shut up."

"Aww," Con chuckled. "Wittle Poseidon's all pissed off, how cute. Does it really make you mad to hear me talk about Spark?"

_Yeah, it does,_ he thought.

_He knows your weak-ness, he knows your weak-ness,_ Dylan taunted.

"Because if so, that's very intriguing," Con went on. He laughed. "At the Lab you hardly showed any emotion at all-it might be fun to watch you get mad. So I think I'll just start telling the tale that is the tragic love affair between me and Spark. That should get you riled up, huh?"

Sy's jaw clenched. "Don't."

"No, really, I will," Con persisted, faking sincerity. "It'll be fun, just listen. I'll start out how we joined forces on the _Princess Andromeda_, of course I'll bring up our infamous little stint to get _you_ back, and then from there I'll move on to the beach."

_This is getting good,_ said Dylan maliciously.

Sy's hands curled into fists. "Shut up, Con."

"Did she tell you about that? The beach? She doesn't know this, because she was asleep at the time, but when I woke up she was all over me. And you know I didn't mind, but I didn't want to embarrass her or anything so I didn't mention it. And all day we threw rocks in the sea, and later that night we-"

"SHUT _UP!_"

* * *

It was starting to work. Con smirked and tilted his head to try to get a look at Sy's eyes. Yes-the blue was now sprinkled with red. Sy was weakest when he was mad; if Con pushed him far enough, then Dylan would seize the opportunity and break through. It wouldn't be difficult to convince him to escape-just lure him with the fun of outsmarting and overpowering Leander. And once that happened all that needed to happen was a little. . .something with Spark, and bam, Sy would be back to kick his ass.

_Just a little bit more, Sy,_ Con thought to himself. _Just a little bit more, that's all I need._

"She _doesn't like you,_ okay?" Sy told him angrily. Con blinked, taken aback. He didn't think Sy would actually try to make something of his taunts. He was just supposed to take the bait and get pissed. "She _doesn't._ So you need to _accept that_ and _leave. Her. Alone._"

But wait. . .maybe this was better. With enough arguing, he'd lose it and break just the same. So, quiet and taunting, Con said, "You can't control her, Sy. She'll do what she wants."

"I _know_ that," he replied weakly, and Con frowned. _Damn. He's supposed to get pissed, not all. . .emotional. Gross._ "I'm not _trying_ to control her. I'm just trying to do what's best for her. And that means you. Leaving _her._ Alone."

Okay, _that_ one made him laugh for real. "You think me leaving her alone is the best thing for her? Ha! You think you know her so well."

"Better than you," the fish hybrid retorted.

"You so sure of that?" he inquired.

"You've got nothin', Con," Sy said, shaking his head. "You said she'll do what she wants? Of course she will! She's Spark! But what she wants isn't you. She _hates_ you! You tried to kill her!"

How did this turn from an expedition to get Dylan to a conversation about Spark? Even when she wasn't _there_ she found a way to be the center of attention! God, how annoying _was_ she?

"So did you, I heard," Con told Sy. A thought popped into his head and he acted on it. "At least after _I_ kiss a girl I don't try to _strangle_ her to death."

_"Watch it!"_ Sy's foot lashed out at the almost-empty water bottle and it flew across the room at Con. His aim was pretty good-Con had to twist to avoid getting hit.

"Did I hit another nerve?" he asked, laughing.

"I don't know how you know about that," Sy said, so angry that Con could see his fists shaking, "but it was an _accident._ It _wasn't. My. Fault._"

"This one's the _schizo_ nerve, then," Con said in an _ohhhh_ type of tone. "It wasn't your fault, it was the voice in your head. _He_ made you do it. It all makes sense now."

Sy glared at him, eyes flickering red. _Good. Getting back on track._ "You're not funny, Constantine."

"You're no class act yourself either, Dylan."

Sy took a deep breath through his nose; Con smirked at the obvious attempt to calm down. "That's not my name."

"Oh look, yet another touchy subject," he said brightly. "Mommy issues."

"How do you get _mommy issues _from a dislike of my _name?_" Sy asked incredulously.

"She _is_ the one who gave you that name," he stated. "You used to not mind, and now you avoid it like the plague." He shrugged. "Obviously something happened with your mom that made you want to dissociate."

But Sy caught him on the bullshitting. "Uh, first of all, you're _wrong,_ and second of all, at least I have a mother."

All right, so maybe baiting him with Spark had been low, but _now_ it was just getting childish. "I've got one too, dumbass. I just don't care about her."

"At least I have a mother who _wanted_ me," Sy taunted. Con rolled his eyes, but the fish boy kept going. Like payback for what he'd been saying about Spark. "Yours sold you for, oh, what was it. . .two thousand dollars? That's pathetic."

_Yeah, yeah, just keep talking,_ Con thought impatiently. _Get it out of your system, whatever._

"Anyone with half a brain would've gone for two million, if not more. _God_ your mom must've hated you. Just like everybody else, she couldn't _wait_ to get rid of you."

Okay. Getting a little annoyed.

"Poor little abandoned Constantine. And after barely a _year_ in Russia, they shipped you off to Chicago, where you latched on to the first thing that smiled at you. And even _she_ left!" Sy laughed mockingly, and Con felt his fists get tight. God, when that kid got burned, he _really_ tried to get you back. It was almost impressive.

Because the _one_ thing that Con could _not_ stand was people trying to talk about his childhood.

"_I'm_ not the one with issues here, Con. _I_ am not the one who's been abandoned and rejected by the same girl over, and over, and _over _aga-"

_That_ made him lose it.

"SHUT _UP!_"

Sy cursed explosively as his mind experienced brutal torture. His eyes shut tight and his entire frame shook with the effort to internalize the mental pain. At one point he bit his lip so hard it drew blood. The shock of color, more vibrant than the stains on Sy's shirt, made Con blink and stop the process. Sy slumped back against the wall, his breathing ragged.

_. . .I didn't mean that._

The thought shocked him more than the fact that he'd taken the bait in the first place. He hadn't lost it and accidentally tortured someone like that since he was a kid. And _never_ had he regretted it.

Con stared blankly at Sy, mouth open as if to speak. But no sound came out-he was stricken deaf and dumb.

_I didn't mean that._

After a while he became aware that Sy was making a noise. A. . .a _laughing_ noise. Con blinked and shook his head a little to revive himself before listening to what Sy was saying.

"I lied," he said through his chuckling. "I don't even hate Leander more than I hate you!"

As much as he disliked Sy, Con hadn't meant to _torture_ him. Really, he hadn't. But ohhh, Spark was going to _kill_ him if she found out. All he'd wanted was to drag out Dylan and escape! But shit. If Sy could withstand all that and still keep his own mindset, then maybe the Dylan plan wasn't such a good idea.

_We'll never get out of here at this rate,_ Con reflected. _We'll kill each other before that happens. We'll drive each other insane._

_

* * *

_

weird, a whole chapter without spark's pov. just a lil' snippet of what's going on with the guys while she's wallowing in guilt. . .


	32. Chapter 32

ELEGRABEA HAS ALSO DRAWN THINGS. well, one thing so far. it resides here:

verlidaine . deviantart . com

i adore the people who care enough to draw things for me :D (you know who you are). i also adore my reviewers. the other day i was in a crappy mood, and out of boredom started reading through all my old reviews. they put a smile on my face and reminded me why i love writing this story so much.

but enough of raving about how awesome you all are. on with the story!

disclaimer: don't own maximum ride.

* * *

_**32. black as hell, dark as night**_

Constantine kept staring at Westerfield in amazement while the fish hybrid broke down laughing. There must've been something in the air of that room. Why were they laughing when their situation was so clearly hopeless? He'd never understood that.

Huh. And now Constantine was laughing, too. Had Westerfield said something? He hadn't heard.

Leander's eyes opened and the vision dissipated. Constantine and Westerfield were reacting as predicted, but also. . .not. They'd been at it like cats and dogs just two minutes ago, and now they were laughing? Either they'd gone crazy already (which he doubted), or things were beginning to change.

And that wasn't how the game was supposed to go.

He sat up, glaring at the door of his room. Spark was starting to weaken, but just breaking her wouldn't be enough. If the boys managed to get past their differences, they might plan something. Not that it would work, but still. Their ridiculous hope would make them harder to crack. And though Leander liked a challenge, he was getting a little bored of waiting.

"Colette!" he called.

She was there in less than ten seconds-any longer and he would have been irritated, and she knew that. She slipped into his room like a ghost amid shadows, her white clothing a stark contrast to the black of the walls, the floor, and the furniture.

Yes. While the rest of the building was entirely white and devoid of color, his room alone was black. He liked it that way. White was simple, boring. Black was deep, strong. It dominated all other colors.

"You wanted me?" Colette asked tonelessly. She had become so bland once she learned he'd only taken her to care for Spark. Not that she'd been very interesting before; just a pretty face with innocent eyes that usually got her what she wanted. Not here, though. Leander wasn't just another stupid Frenchman willing to succumb to seduction.

"No, I called you," he replied. Her jaw clenched, but she showed no other reaction. So he went on. "Spark's boys are starting to change. And not entirely for the worse. They're not weak enough to have broken this quickly, so they must be starting to befriend each other."

"And that _isn't_ good," she said.

His eyes narrowed. "Don't be a smart-ass."

"What do you want _me_ to do about it?" Colette inquired. "The only reason I'm here is to take care of that stupid girl of yours. And according to your files about the boys I highly doubt either one of them would fall prey to any trap I may set. And you should know that. So why am I here?"

"Have you checked on Spark?" he demanded. It'd been nearly two hours since he left her in her room, and he hadn't heard a peep. Even when he'd looked in on her with his power, all she'd been doing was lying in bed, staring at the wall.

Colette blinked and confirmed that thought. "Since your experiment all she's done is lie in the bed and stare at the wall. Why?"

He didn't answer her at first, taking some time to think it over.

The visions had shaken Spark. That much was obvious. But the risk now was whether or not letting her visit with the boys again would trigger anything. It might be too soon. Seeing two of her favorite people (well, maybe not-so-favorite, if it was Constantine) might fool her into thinking that she really wasn't all that bad. They might revitalize her, and he'd have to start over from scratch.

Then again, maybe she was too freaked to notice anything. Maybe she was just ready to crack, and all she needed was a little nudge toward the edge. Another vision? Maybe one about her family again. A moment's concentration awarded Leander a glimpse of Spark's mother, weeping uncontrollably as a television played back home videos of her children. Leander almost smiled-that would probably do it. And once Spark was completely beyond anybody's help but his own, he could take her to Westerfield and Constantine and flaunt her. When they realized there was nothing more to do, they'd give up.

So that's what he'd do. Break Spark with one (or maybe a few) more visions of the trouble she'd caused, then break the boys by showing that he'd broken her. He could kill them, get rid of Colette, and then it'd just be him and Spark.

And of all of this Leander was certain. He was good at reading people and predicting their reactions. The guys at the former Itex had gone out of their way to shower him with psychology classes.

"Leander?" Colette ventured, trying to gain his attention.

He blinked. "I'll break her now," he said. "And after that, I'll break Westerfield and Constantine."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. So go get her."

* * *

_Scritch. Scritch. Scritch._

This was going to take a while. Sure, diamond cut through anything, but it wasn't a freaking laser. Plus, it had a weird cut. So I was going to have to lie here, in the stupidly comfortable bed, huddled under the covers so nobody could see what I was doing, and scrape this stupid pendant back and forth along this teeny section of chain for hours before I could even think about snapping it loose. The white rubber had torn pretty easily, but the metal beneath was a bigger challenge.

. . .That sounded vaguely dirty for some reason.

_Scritch. Scritch. Scritch._

I wondered absently what Colette was doing now. What was it she did for Leander, anyway, when she wasn't "taking care" of me? Clean his spotless white house? Cook edible meals using only white ingredients? Feed his fluffy white kitty?

Not that I'd seen a kitty. I was just speculating.

_Scritch. Scritch. Scritch._

Speaking of kitties, my mind flitted to Joey and Frankie. I was glad they'd avoided this whole mess, but not-so-glad that I didn't know where they were. Were they still in Great Britain? Or had they hopped a ride back to the States, or to the European mainland?

I hoped they were okay. Them and their friends. Their little pride of kitty hybrids.

_Scritch. Scritch. Scritch._

And speaking of hybrid boys, how were Sy and Con getting on? Cooperating? Fighting? Who was I kidding, they hated each other. They were probably just stewing in silent anger, ignoring each other to the best of their ability. Or exchanging insults at lightning speeds, slowly driving each other insane.

I was probably going insane.

_Scritch. Scritch. Scritch._

Doing the same thing over and over-such as slowly sawing through a chain link with a diamond pendant-made you go a little cuckoo. The monotonous motion had my eyes sliding in and out of focus, and the bed was making me sleepy, and because it all required very little focus it left your mind free to wander. And mind-wandering probably wasn't the best thing for me now. Not with the horrible guilty truth that had recently come to my attention.

I really was like Hero. I was hurting people without caring about the consequences. Trevor, my friends, my family. What with my being there _and_ my not being there. I was just an awful person, wasn't I?

_Scritch. Scritch. Scritch._

This was dangerous territory here. Just how much of a pain in the ass is Spark, let us count the ways. . .

Ditching Con, Blaze, and Swift at Itex, all those years ago. Screwed _them_ up, that was for sure.

_Scritch. Scritch. Scritch._

Inflicting damage, physical and emotional, on the six foster families I was with before I was adopted.

Being a classic "problem child" for my parents for two straight years after adoption. Got over that, but then slipped into the skin of a rebellious teenage terror all too easily.

_Scritch. Scritch. Scritch._

Staying gone after being forced to flee from Chicago. All that worry for my family, not letting them know where I was or if I was okay.

Disrupting Max and the rest of the flock's lives by dragging them into my mess with the anti-flock.

_Scritch. Scritch. Scritch._

Giving my cousins a panic attack when the anti-flock got me in Chicago.

Hurting Sy when I thought he'd betrayed me.

_Scritch. Scritch. Scritch._

Worrying the flock by getting kidnapped again.

Freaking out the flock when Con stabbed me in that cave.

_Scritch. Scritch. Scritch._

Getting everybody, flock _and_ anti-flock, stuck on the _Princess Andromeda_ with a one-way ticket to London.

Crushing everybody's hope when we failed in our first attempt to escape.

_Scritch. Scritch. Scritch._

Devastating all my friends when Itex killed off that clone of me.

Pissing everybody off with the plan to throw the London conference.

_Scritch. Scritch. Scritch._

The confrontation with my dad.

Allowing myself to lower my guard and get kidnapped by stupid fucking Leander.

_Scritch. Scritch. Scritch._

And getting Con and Sy dragged into it too.

Quite a rap sheet, if I do say so myself. Lengthy and not very pretty.

_Scritch. Scritch. Scritch. _

So much shit had happened just because I existed. Maybe I was better off here, with Leander. Out of everybody else's lives.

Sister Katherine was wrong about me. I wasn't an "angel," of light or dark. I was just a freak with wings. A freak that messed up every life she touched.

_Scritch. Scritch. Scritch. Scrit-click!_

My hands stopped moving and I blinked, looking down.

The diamond pendant had fumbled from my fingers, dropping to the mattress and resting amid curls of torn rubber and shavings of gray-black iron. My eyes flicked to the chain on my wrist and I blinked again in surprise. There was a sliver of space in the chain link I'd been scraping at.

I'd. . .I'd done it.

I propped myself up on my elbow and raised my arm, inspecting the chain. Yeah, that was definitely a break. Somehow during my mental rambling along the road of self-pity and regret I'd increased the speed and strength of my scraping. I'd shortened the hours of work into minutes. Or. . .had it really been hours? 'Cuz sometimes you get lost in thought, ya know? For who knows how long.

_Okay, _now_ I'm going crazy,_ I told myself.

But, crazy or not, this was a chance. I had no idea if Colette was using her weird power to "shield" me from Leander's weird power of "seeing" me, but that didn't have to matter. Now that I knew what Leander could do, I could brace myself for a fight with him. I could. . .put up a mental block or something. And so what if he had a gun? Con and Blaze and them had had guns, and I'd escaped _them_ countless times. I was faster than him. I was stronger. I had an overwhelming desire to live, to be free.

I flipped back the white covers and swung my legs out of the warm confines of the bed. My feet tingled and I winced-they'd fallen asleep. Maybe I really _had_ been doing this for hours. I curled my toes and kicked my feet against the bedstead to restore life into them before hopping down to the floor. I held on to the chain and gave my wrist a twist, snapping the manacle free. I'd find a way to get the cuff itself off later.

Now all I had to focus on was escaping. Beating Leander. If he was out of the picture then Colette would only be too happy to help (I hoped). We'd spring Con and Sy and be on our merry way. And maybe she'd even come with us. She wasn't all that bad.

I walked around the bed and went to the bedside table. I yanked it open and found those handcuff-manacle things he'd put on me earlier, along with the white rope that had bound my hands behind my back. I shrugged the coil of rope over one shoulder and flipped one end of the manacles over the other, flinching as the cuff hit my tailbone. _Ow._ Guess I didn't think that part all the way through.

There was nothing else in the drawer of the bedside table, so I shut it and turned to the door. Quickly closing the distance between me and it, I put both hands on the handle and braced myself, ready to twist it till it broke.

I was there. I was at the door, I was ready to break it open. But. . .I hesitated.

Okay. So say I managed to get out of the room. Say I managed to defeat Leander in some mysterious way, and say I managed to team up with Colette and free Con and Sy. Say we all left this white hellhole and found our way back to Sydney, where we would meet up with the flock and never have another worry in the world.

Say everything worked out all right. What would happen then?

I'd probably already caused so much extra stress for Max, for the flock, for Dr. Martinez and CSM. Dad had probably returned home by now, which meant Mom and Kenny and Jeremy knew I was alive, but purposely not coming home. To the rest of my friends, I was still dead, and going back to them would just send them over the edge. Con probably hated me even more than he did, since I was the reason he'd had to ditch his flock and come down here only to be kidnapped. And knowing Con, he'd probably brought up certain _things_ to taunt Sy with, which meant Fish Boy would have uncomfortable questions for me.

Getting back to all that stress would be a shitstorm.

But. . .if I stayed here. . .if I stayed with Leander, and gave up on everything else. . .Colette said he'd do anything for me. If I cooperated with him and he accepted it, then he'd let Con and Sy go if I asked. They could leave and get on with their lives. They could go on without me. That's what Con wanted, after all. And I was just so much of a nuisance for Sy. He was young. He'd bounce back.

My spirit was slowly sinking, further and further into the black recesses of negative thinking. But before it got too far, I shut my eyes and shook my head. _No. Don't think like that! That's exactly how Leander wants you to think!_

As I struggled to psych myself back up for escape, I kept repeating to myself, _Can't think like that, can't think like that, it's letting him win, it's letting him win._ Because I had to remember that that's what it came down to: what Leander wanted. And I couldn't let him have what he wanted. I'm me, aren't I? I'm a rebel. I annoy people for fun. Hell, I've got it down to an _art._ So if what Leander wanted was for me to stay, then I had to do just the opposite. Because that's what I did. That's. . .that's what I do.

Right?

My hands were shaking on the doorknob and my breath was coming in short, ragged pants. Nobody had ever gotten to me like this before. Yeah, others had tried, but I'd blown them off. They'd only been pointing out _one_ failure, _one_ misstep in my routine. Nobody had ever brought them all up at the same time before. Nobody had ever nitpicked my entire life, hoarding all the mistakes and all the negative consequences just to dump them on me all at once. Faced with all the bad things made your mind go to dangerous places.

Leander was smarter than I'd originally given him credit for. He was pretty fuckin' good at what he did, I'll give him that. He was making _me_ think about what I was doing. _Me!_ Poster child for followers of impulse! Queen of making it up as she went along!

He was good. He was definitely good.

But. . .was he good enough to _win?_

_

* * *

_uh-oh, sparky's lettin' creepy freak boy get inside her heea-eaad. does not bode well for her sanity.

this time, i actually have a legit excuse for not updating. i had some missing assignments in school and my parents confiscated my laptop :( but the school website blocks are down and so i can access fanfiction! whoo!


	33. Chapter 33

huh. and i thought last chapter was rather mediocre. but apparently you liked it, so yay. on with the story.

disclaimer: don't own maximum ride.

* * *

_**33. lost**_

Constantine was a dead man. Or at least, he would be when Blaze found him.

Okay, so she knew how he was. Sometimes, he just wanted to be left alone. And that was fine. Blaze respected that. But going so far as to ditch the rest of them in Canada without even telling _her_ what was going on? Uh, no. Big mistake. He was getting a kick in the ass from her soon as she saw him. Which would hopefully be here, at this hotel in Australia where Max and her flock were staying.

She came to a stop just outside the doors of the hotel, Avi, Swift, and Shadow gathering around her and waiting expectantly.

"You sure he's here, Blaze?" Avi asked. Blaze glared down at her and she shrugged. "It seemed like when we left he didn't want anything more to do with Spark. Why would he come just because she called?"

"Must've been a hell of a call," Swift mumbled, and Shadow snickered.

"That's what I'm thinking," Blaze said firmly. "She said _something_ that made him come down here. Not many people can change his mind about things."

"You can, sometimes," Shadow remarked.

"Yeah, sometimes, and Spark can too. So, yeah, I think he's here." She peered through the glass doors of the hotel, seeking out the receptionist. Upon spying her, she reached out her hand to touch Shadow. "You're gonna have to get us in this one," she told him.

"Why?" He came forward and looked through the glass, following her gaze. Then he frowned. "Oh."

"Yeah." She glanced once over the kids, eyes lingering for just a second on the ridiculously large shoes they'd picked up for Swift's feet. They hid the talons, but didn't make walking easy for him. Ah well. Couldn't be helped. "So let's go in."

Blaze grabbed the door's handle and pulled the door open, holding it so the kids could go in ahead of her. Once the four of them were inside the building, they split up: Blaze and Avi over to the pay phones (yes, they still existed) to pretend to make a call, Swift and Shadow over to the receptionist's desk where sat a blond-haired, brown-eyed woman whose demeanor just oozed mom vibes.

The girls were just close enough to overhear the conversation.

"Excuse me," said Swift, catching the woman's attention. She looked up and did a slight double-take. "We're, um, looking for the CSM group? Could you tell us what room they're staying in?"

"I'm sorry, I'm not allowed to give out that information," the woman replied.

"We're friends of theirs."

"I'm sorry, sir, I can't help you."

And that's when Shadow moved in. Tugging on Swift's sleeve, he assumed an innocent, slightly higher voice that didn't sound anything like his usual self. "Hey, hey Sam, boost me up."

The elder boy obliged, lifting Shadow up so he could lean over the edge of the counter. The receptionist's eyes flickered to him and she did another double-take. Blaze smirked-so she'd guessed right. The boys had a hair color similar to the woman's, and Shadow had brown eyes as well. They probably reminded her of her kids.

"Hi," Shadow said brightly, smiling sweetly. "My name's Shane, who are you?"

"I'm Judy," she replied, blinking in surprise. Then she smiled. "It's very nice to meet you, Shane."

"Nice to meet you too," Shadow said politely, and Judy's smile grew. "But hey, Miss Judy? Can you _pleeaase_ tell us where our friends are? We really need to see them."

"I'm very sorry, Shane, but I'm not allowed to give out that information," the woman said, this time sounding truly apologetic. "Shane" frowned, making a face that'd break any mother's heart.

"Aww. But I wanted to see my friend Ariel."

"Who's Ariel, sweetie?" Judy asked, looking worried. _Anything to get rid of that face,_ Blaze thought in satisfaction. The kid hadn't lost his touch. He could get anything he wanted when he bothered to try. If Angel didn't have the mind-control thing going on, Shadow could give her a run for her money in the "I'm the cutest little kid in the world so I get what I want" category.

"She's the prettiest one," Shadow explained. "The one with hair like mine only lighter, and with real pretty blue eyes. We gotta go home today and I wanted to give her a present before we left, 'cuz after we leave I'm not gonna see her again for a while. And I don't want her to forget me."

You could practically hear the "Awww!" Blaze fought a smirk as Judy smiled, glanced around, and then typed something into her computer. She told the boys the flock's room number and Shadow beamed.

"Cool! Thanks, Miss Judy!" He squirmed and Swift set him down; Shadow dashed for the elevator, pressing the button and then waiting with his hands behind his back. For the shortest second, he held up four fingers.

A glance back at the desk showed Swift also thanking Judy, and her probably telling him to go after his brother before he got lost. Swift nodded at her and followed Shadow through the just-opened elevator doors.

"He sounded so innocent," Avi whispered to Blaze as she hung up on her fake phone conversation.

"Yeah, but soon as we meet up he's going to bitch about _some_thing," Blaze replied. She nodded over to the elevators. "Come on, let's head up."

Four fingers meant the fourth floor. They rode up, and upon exiting the elevator met back with Swift and Shadow, who immediately said, "That lady smelled funny. She was wearing weird perfume. Oh, and they're in room 2036. It's that way." He pointed down the left hallway.

Avi bit her lip to hide a smile, and Blaze just smirked. "Sure she was. Nice job, kiddo."

"She was easy," he replied, rushing to catch up and walk at Blaze's side. "We looked like her kids when they were little. There were pictures on her desk by the computer."

"Uh-huh." Blaze didn't pay much attention as he chattered on, her eyes instead fixed on the numbers nailed to the doors. 2024, 2026, 2028. . .2036.

"Here." She came to a stop and, ignoring the "Do Not Disturb" sign hanging from the handle, pounded on the door with her fist.

From within, silence. They'd probably been told they wouldn't be bothered. But then, after she knocked again, she recognized Iggy as he called out, "Who is it?"

"It's the tooth fairy," she called back sarcastically. "Who do you _think_ it is, dumbass?"

The sound of footsteps, of the chain lock being undone. The door opened, revealing a rather wary-looking Max.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Yeah, hello to you too," Blaze replied, pushing past her to get into the room. She glanced around the large, rather crowded suite, ignoring the fair-haired fish kids (and overlooking the fact that she was surprised to see them here) and searching for a sign of black hair. After only finding Fang, she frowned. "Dammit."

"Heeyy, you're not the tooth fairy," Iggy said. He pointed accusingly in her direction. "You lied to me."

"Of course I'm not the tooth fairy, I'm hotter," she shot back. "And I don't exactly wait for the teeth to fall out." Ignoring the ensuing snickering, Blaze rounded on Max. "Where is he?"

She blinked. "Who?"

A suspicious thought sparked in the back of her mind, but Blaze pushed it back, unwilling to acknowledge the possibility. She crossed her arms and glared at Max. "Don't be dumb. I'm tired and not in the mood to crack skulls right now. So just tell me where he is so we can leave."

Max just stared at her blankly. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Blaze's heart sank and she felt her eyes close.

"Fuck."

* * *

"Hey, watch the language," I tried to scold, but Blaze ignored me. She raised her hand and dropped her head into it, like she'd just figured something out that she didn't like. I glanced at Fang, who shrugged, and-

Wait.

I quickly did a head-count of the anti-flock, accounting for Swift, Avi, Shadow, and Blaze herself.

But they were one short of their usual five.

Con wasn't with his flock.

Blaze cursed some more under her breath and my pulse started to quicken. "What's wrong?" I asked, aware of the nervous tone to my voice. "Where's Con?"

"Wait, he's not here?" Shadow said, quitting the search for his flock leader to look at me. "Why not?"

"Where's Spark?" Avi asked suddenly, also turning my way. "And if the rest of the school's here, why isn't Sy?"

It started to dawn on the rest of them that something was seriously wrong. Uneasy looks were exchanged as an awkward silence dragged on and on and on until Blaze stomped the floor and swore again.

"Fuck it all to hell and back again!" she cried. "God _damn_ it!"

_Time to take charge,_ I thought to myself. Getting it together, I crossed my arms and stared at Blaze. In my best leaderly tone, I asked, "Okay, what's going on? Why are you here, where's Con, and why do you keep swearing?"

"Don't you get it?" Blaze snapped at me. I tried not to jump in surprise as her blue eyes started going silver. "It was a trap, you retard! We screwed up!"

"A trap?" I repeated sharply. "What do you mean?" I waited for a response, but then it hit me and I felt my eyes widen. "Wait, are you talking about Itex?"

"Wow, that was amazing," she snarled. "Are you usually this good, or did you eat an extra bowl of point-out-the-obvious this morning?"

I scowled. "Sit down and explain." I pointed over to an empty space near Iggy. "What do you know?"

Blaze ignored my finger and crossed her arms again, leaning back against the wall. She looked strung out-everyone suddenly did. I had a feeling this was going to be a loooonnng conversation, so I picked my way around the twins, D.J., Aliza, and Nixie, who were all sprawled out on the floor, and found a spot on the couch next to Fang. This CSM gig had been good to us-nice hotel, big cushy suite, showers, clean clothes, as much food as we wanted. But then Spark and Sy had gone missing. At first we'd thought they'd just gone temporarily AWOL, and would be back at the hotel by nightfall. When they hadn't, we'd started to worry. The next morning Mom had gone back to the arena to talk to security and everything; that's where she was today, too.

I'd had a feeling that something was seriously wrong. But the others had talked me down from it, saying they'd probably just gone out to be by themselves. Sight-seeing or something goofy like that. We'd joked that they'd run off to get married and start a kangaroo farm together.

But it looked like the point went to paranoia this time.

I looked over at Blaze, who seemed to be waiting for me. I nodded and she said grimly, "Okay, I don't know much, but I do know this. Spark, Sy, and Con are all missing. They're all important to Itex, which we just forced to go bankrupt, but because it's freaking _Itex_ we can't exactly be sure of anything except the fact that any surviving employees would be uber-pissed about what we did. Do the math, Max."

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Kidnapped?"

"Give the lady a prize," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Why'd you call it a trap?" Fang asked. "How did Con get involved in all this? You guys went off on your own, didn't you?"

"We were in Canada," Blaze replied. "But then we got a call. Or rather, Con did."

"Huh?" I said. Blaze rolled her eyes again.

"Avi?"

All eyes swiveled to the younger girl of the anti-flock, who had drifted off to the big round dining table with Swift and Shadow (Gazzy, Angel, Nudge, and Janey were all over there too). Avi was chewing away on her fingernails, but quickly stopped when she realized we were all looking at her. Digging around in her pocket, she produced a cell phone.

"I got it from Spark a while back," she said. "We changed the number, and I use it to call my mom every once in a while."

"Your _mom?_" Nudge echoed, eyes wide, but someone shushed her before she could depart the station on the Babble Express.

"Yeah. But the other day I got a call from Spark," Avi explained. "She wanted to talk to Con, so I gave him the phone. We didn't hear what she said, but he said 'fine' and hung up. Next morning he was gone."

"How did you know to come here?" I asked. For a reply, Avi pressed some buttons on the phone and then held it up.

_"Hey! Avi, I need to talk to Con for a second, so can you put him on? Thanks."_

It was Spark's voice.

_"Con. I don't have a lot of time, so don't talk right now, got it? The flock and I made it to Australia, okay, but right away we were attacked and nearly got killed. They were those robot things we fought on the ship, remember? When we tried to escape? Anyway, we took care of them, but turns out Australia doesn't exactly function on the same level as the rest of the world. Their Itex didn't shut down, and they're after us."_

_What the hell is this?_ I thought in bewilderment. _Why's she saying this? _When_ did she say this?_

_"So you have to get down here, okay? Soon as you can. Preferably in three days. If they know _we're_ here, they know Sy's with us, so he can't pretend to capture us to get us inside. But _you _can do that. You have to help us. You want Itex gone too, right? I swear, this is the last you'll see of me, if that's what you want. Just help us get this thing finished."_

The message ended, and Avi meekly closed the phone and put it away.

"I recorded the conversation," she said quietly. "Just in case."

"What the eff was that?" Aqua said suddenly, and I looked down at her. She looked more confused than anyone else. "She never called anybody."

"That's right," Arthur added, and even D.J. nodded. I then remembered that the four of them had shared a room, girls in one bed, boys in another. (The twins had insisted upon being in the same room, at least.)

"We were in the room with her all night," said Aqua, putting her hand on her hat and scratching her head.

"We would've heard her make a call," said Arthur.

"What are you guys even talking about? That wasn't even Spark's voice."

Now it was Iggy who had every eye fixed upon him. He shifted as if he could feel it and shrugged. "What? It wasn't. It was close, but it wasn't her. Someone was mimicking it. Pretty dang well, too."

"It's gotta be Itex," the Gasman said. "Nobody else would think to kidnap us. Right?"

"Crazy fan from the shows?" D.J. guessed.

"Nah, they'd've left a note," Kyla said from Fang's other side, waving him off. "Or called for ransom or something. This reeks of Itex plotting."

"But Itex ended," Fang argued. "We finished it. We were all there, and it even said on their website they've gone bankrupt."

"True, but remember what Spark said? To her dad?" I said. "There's bound to be aftereffects. Maybe an ex-employee, like Blaze said. Or the Director."

"No. Director's not smart enough to do something like this on her own," Blaze interjected.

"What makes you think it was a one-man job?" Wave inquired from beside Kyla, raising one of her eyebrows. "She could have had help. And she's definitely obsessed with Spark enough to want to do this."

"Maybe Wave's right," Nudge said. "Like, when I looked up her name it said she'd gone missing, right?"

"Oh, come on, it's obvious where she is," Shadow said, rolling his eyes. "Nobody from Itex ever quits and goes missing for real. They get killed."

I looked to Blaze, but she just shrugged. "He's right. Once you work for Itex, you're _stuck_ working for Itex until you're six feet under. But anyway, this guy was focused specifically on Con, Spark, and Sy, and he took them one at a time. If it'd been a group, they would've taken more of you. Those three were all he felt safe with on his own."

"You don't know that," I told her. "Besides, Sy was _with_ Spark when they disappeared. They had to've been overpowered."

"Not necessarily," Aqua piped up. "Spark could've been taken first."

"And then Sy got it when he went to look for her," Arthur said.

"Exactly," Blaze said. She pushed away from where she'd been leaning against the wall and wandered over the one empty space in the room, the other half of the loveseat. Iggy scooted aside so she could plop herself down and continue. "And since none of you have seen Con, we can only assume he was taken soon after he landed."

"Plus, since news hasn't leaked to the media about any of it, it sounds more like a one-man job," Avi added helpfully. "Or maybe two at the most."

"What does the media have to do with it?" Iggy asked, turning his head towards her.

"Group kidnappers kidnap for two specific reasons," Blaze explained, holding up two fingers. "Punishment, or money. Since nobody's called about ransom and since there hasn't been any news of a rogue enforcement group running around kidnapping us evil teenagers, it's more likely we're just dealing with one really psychopathic kidnapper."

"One-man jobs call for ransom too, sometimes," Fang pointed out.

"But he hasn't yet," Blaze countered. "It's been two days already, that's plenty of time to let a family stew in worry."

"I still don't think this is a one-guy thing," I protested. "I think Itex might be trying to revive itself and-"

"No, it's not," she interrupted firmly. "You said it yourself. It's bankrupt. Everybody's ditched it. Nobody wants to touch them after what we did. Now, we might be right on the ex-employee thing, but I'm starting to doubt it. The grunts smart enough to pull something like this off didn't work with the mutants directly, and even if they heard about them they wouldn't concern themselves with the lower experiments."

"Could it be a kid?" Nudge asked suddenly.

"Huh?"

"Well, we heard once that Itex exterminated all of its experiments, but that turned out not true because a while after that we met Spark and you guys," she said. "So maybe it's another experiment."

"Huh," Iggy said. "Sounds possible. Resents Spark because she escaped first, resents the other two just because they're free. Or maybe just picked them up to screw with Spark."

"Hmm. That's possible, but unlikely," Blaze said. "Everybody knew Spark was gone, but half the caged didn't really believe she'd escaped."

"The caged?" Fang echoed.

"The caged mutants," Wave clarified. "The ones not trusted to walk around on their own."

"Us older kids always thought she just expired or got killed," Kyla added. "Nobody who was sure she'd escaped was really mad about it. They practically worshipped her for that."

"But what about the not-caged ones, like you guys?" I asked, looking at Blaze. "They must've known she'd escaped. What about them?"

"They thought she just got lucky," she said simply. "Not a lot of people resented her for it."

"You did," I pointed out.

"I said 'not a lot,' not 'nobody,' " she snapped.

"Is there anybody at all who knew about Spark and resented her?" Fang asked. "Or anybody who was obsessed with her?"

"Not continually," Blaze said.

"It was only the usual awss," Avi added.

I faltered at the unfamiliar word. "Excuse me?"

"O-W-S-S," Shadow spelled out. "Obsessed-With-Spark-Syndrome."

A few people snorted despite the situation. Even Blaze might've been smiling a little as she explained. "She was like a fad. Every time someone learned about her, they obsessed over it for a while but moved on. The longest cases only lasted maybe a week before other info crowded in and pushed her out of their minds."

"You make it sound like a disease," Iggy observed.

"It kinda seemed like one," she replied. "She was the first experiment to escape Itex without inside help. Of course people talked about it. Over time it sorta started being a legend."

"Maybe it wasn't her," Swift said suddenly. We all stared at him, but he just shrugged a shoulder and didn't elaborate.

"I think he means maybe Spark's not the reason for this," Avi said uneasily. "Like, maybe it's someone who went after Sy or Con."

"No, that doesn't make sense." Blaze shook her head. "If it'd been Con, they would've taken him back in Canada and lured Spark there, not the other way around. And Sy wouldn't've been involved."

"He would've if he'd seen the guy get Spark," the Gasman suggested.

"Okay, maybe, but still. It makes more sense that Spark is the main objective in this kidnapping," Blaze insisted. "If it'd been Sy, there'd be no reason to bring Con into the picture. They've always hated each other."

"Maybe to torment him," said Kyla. "Yeah, Sy doesn't like Con, but he only really _hates_ him when he's with Spark."

"So, like, just making him jealous," Wave said. "Putting Con with Spark would annoy Sy like no other."

"But Con wouldn't do anything," Angel said, speaking for the first time since the anti-flock had arrived.

"How do you know?" Shadow demanded. "Con does what he wants, he doesn't care."

"Not if it has to do with Spark," she said, shaking her head so her blond curls bounced. "He doesn't want to like her anymore, that's why he made you guys leave us in Norway."

"Angel?" I asked, and she turned to look at me. "Are you sure?"

She nodded. "Uh-huh. I was reading their minds on the beach. They had a big fight and at the end of it Con was thinking he didn't want to be around Spark anymore."

"But if they hate each other, and if Spark's the focal point of this kidnapping, then why was Con taken as well?" Fang asked. "If the kidnapper was obsessed with Spark, he must've known she hated Con."

"She hates him, but she'd still care if he got hurt or died because of her," Iggy said. "She's not so twisted that she'd just stand by and let him get killed."

"That's true," Blaze agreed. Then she shook her head in disgust and propped her elbow on the arm-rest, leaning her head on her hand. "This guy's really sick. He's probably using Con and Sy to torture Spark. If they get hurt, she'll freak."

I suddenly stood up and everyone looked at me. Ignoring the odd feeling of taking the spotlight, I said decisively, "We need to find them."

Blaze straightened back up. "What, like go on a rescue mission?" She snorted. "Please, Max."

"What? I'm serious!" I cried. "We need to save them! If this psycho's torturing them, then it's only a matter of time before one of them gets killed! We need to start looking!"

"And how do you suggest we do that?" Blaze asked, raising one eyebrow at me, not needing to elaborate.

There were no witnesses. No evidence. No leads, no clues as to where they'd gone.

So for that, I had no answer.

* * *

I was still holding tight to the doorknob when I heard footsteps.

_Shit!_ My hands came back as if burned, and I backed away. _Shit, shit, shit! What do I do? What do I do?_ He was going to _kill_ me for trying to escape! And I couldn't just go back to the bed and pretend I hadn't done anything, the chain was broken! He'd notice! _He'll kill me!_ This was bad, this was bad, this was bad, bad, bad, ba-

_Stop it!_ I mentally slapped myself and shook my head. I was starting to sound like an abuse victim, fearing the approach of their abuser. I had to snap out of that mindset. I had to stop thinking the way Leander wanted me to. I had to start being myself again. I was Spark. I was not an abuse victim, and I was not afraid of Leander.

Well. . .not really.

I grabbed the chained manacles that I'd slung over my shoulder and held them in my hands. I swung one of the cuffs around, testing its weight. It was light, but it was metal. It would hurt. It'd be like that time we'd tied weights to the ends of the jump rope and tried to climb a tree the way Mulan climbed the pole in the movie. Only this time, I wouldn't be hitting my sister on accident. This time, it'd be Leander, and it'd be on purpose.

A key scraped in the lock and I tensed, lightly swinging the cuff back and forth. _Come on then. Just try to get me._

The door opened. . .

. . .And it was Colette.

Her eyes widened at the sight of me. "What are you doing?" She ran forward and tugged the manacle chains from my limp hands. Producing a key from her pocket, she unlocked the broken cuff from my wrist and snapped on the ones I'd been ready to use as a potential weapon. "You can't leave yet, he's expecting it!"

"But. . .what. . ." All right, I'll admit it. I was shocked. In one part of my brain I was angry that I wasn't overpowering Colette and fleeing the coop, but another part of me tried to make sense of her words. The element of surprise had to be key in this particular situation. Just like before we pulled the London thing. They expected me to act a certain way, so I should do the exact opposite of that expectation. Leander was probably waiting for me to come up with a plan and bust out as soon as possible.

I had to bide my time.

"Idiot," Colette hissed, locking the other cuff in place and pulling roughly on the chain. She dragged me from the room and, hand tight on my forearm, steered me down towards the end of the hall, where Leander was waiting.

Despite her anger at me, she seemed frantic. Sidelong glances at her revealed wide, darting eyes, nervous twitching that had her eyelids dancing and her fingers tapping on my arm.

Tapping on my arm.

I blinked. _What the. . .?_

* * *

Her feet dragged. Her eyes stared absently at the floor. Colette barely had to force her to walk down the hall.

She was like a lifeless doll.

Once they approached, he smiled and said her name.

"Spark."

She didn't say anything.

"Hm." He nodded at Colette, who nodded in return and released Spark. He counted the seconds it took for her footsteps to retreat down the hall and disappear behind the door of the room he let her stay in.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.

It was only after Colette had gone that Leander really started talking to Spark.

"Are you all right, Spark?" he asked politely, his hand drifting up to touch her shoulder. "You look upset."

She didn't say anything.

"Aw. I'll bet you're just tired," he teased. "You were laying in bed for so long you probably fell asleep. Is that right? Did Colette wake you up?"

She didn't say anything.

Perhaps she really was broken already. That final vision wasn't needed. It was almost disappointing-he'd thought she was stronger than this. Maybe she really wasn't as tough as everyone seemed to think. How boring. He might just end up killing her, too, after all.

_But before that. . ._ Leander smirked, his hand tightening on Spark's shoulder. He turned her roughly and opened the door they were standing beside. "You remember what's behind this door?" he asked, pushing her inside. She stumbled a little, but regained balance. "That's right. Your favorite toys."

Constantine and Westerfield both looked up, eyes widening simultaneously at the sight of Spark. And why wouldn't they? Leander smirked as he stepped inside, pulling the door closed behind him. Spark was acting a whole lot different than last time. Not saying anything, just standing there, not even looking at them. Although watching _her_ was dull, watching the boys begin to freak out was rather entertaining indeed.

"Spark, why aren't you looking at me?" Westerfield asked, sounding more than a little concerned. "Come on, just look up. Please?"

"What'd you do to her?" Constantine said, his voice neutral. "Why isn't she talking?"

Leander glanced at him for a second and almost laughed out loud-his eyes were a dead giveaway. Constantine could say what he liked about not caring, about hating Spark, but his eyes told the real truth.

He was angry. He didn't like the thought that Leander had done something to make Spark like this. It was almost cute.

"Me?" Leander said, smiling and gesturing to himself. "_I_ did nothing. Spark's just finally realized how much trouble she's caused. She's decided she'll be better off here with me. That's all."

"Bullshit," Constantine snapped. "Spark, come on, quit messing around. You didn't fall for whatever he said, you're not that stupid."

"Yeah, Spark, come on," said Westerfield. "Don't let him get to you. Talk to us."

They waited for a response, but none came.

Leander stepped closer to Spark and draped his arm over her shoulder. "She's just tired, I guess," he said, shrugging. It was difficult to not laugh; their looks were priceless. "We had some fun a while ago and I think I wore her out."

"Sick freak," Westerfield growled through clenched teeth. Leander just smirked, which seemed to set Constantine off.

"Okay, Spark? I know you don't like me, but come on! Get a hold of yourself!" he said, his voice rising so he was nearly shouting. "You're just being pathetic now, so stop it! That's not who you are!"

Spark kept standing there, saying nothing. Constantine swore and rolled his eyes.

"What's he been saying to you?" Westerfield asked, struggling to appear calm. "That you're a bad person? That you do more harm than good? Come on, you know that's not true."

"Yeah, so stop listening to _him_ and start listening to _us,_" Constantine said. "You're not a bad guy. _He_ is. Nobody's controlling you right now except for _you._ So get your fucking act together and beat this guy up so we can all get out of here!"

Leander laughed. "Don't you get it yet? You've lost her, guys! She's mine now. You can't get her back. You lose."

* * *

_He is such a jackass. Such a dumb, creepy, freakazoid jackass._

Okay, so the not talking thing? I could do that with some amount of ease. Stifling the shudder from where Leander had his arm around me? Much harder. If just his _voice_ could make my skin crawl. . .

I swallowed, giving myself a mental shake and being extremely careful about staying completely still. It was getting tougher, just standing here and listening to Leander torment Sy and Con. I kept stealing glances up at them through my bangs, but, well, I hadn't had a haircut in a while. The hair was pretty hard to see through. But from what I'd managed to glimpse, they seemed fine. For the most part.

I just hoped they weren't really falling for it. I mean, I knew they could both act pretty convincingly, but I can act too, y'know. And my current role of "broken Spark" seemed to be a hit. Like, they were seriously starting to flip out over there, all while Leander just stood there, watching them squirm. The three of them were probably starting to really believe I was done with this, ready to give in to Leander.

Boys are stupid.

But so long as Leander was the main idiot who believed I wasn't going to put up a fight anymore, I had to keep it up. Of all people, I had to keep _him_ in the dark. . .and since he could see practically _everything,_ I had to keep Con and Sy in the dark, too. (You can add this little deception to the long, horrible list of horrible things I've done to people.) Because if Leander found out I was faking, he'd kill me, or Con or Sy. Actually, he'd probably end up killing all of us if I didn't play this right.

Colette sure had a lot of expectations for me.

See, 'cuz before, when we were walkin' down th' hall 'n' all, Colette's nervous tapping on my arm hadn't really been nervous tapping. It'd been signaling. Morse code. She was pretty damn lucky I knew it-or rather, I was pretty damn lucky to have been bored enough one summer to learn it.

She'd told me to act broken. Beaten. Defeated. Because if I wasn't, Leander would make sure I was. I probably wasn't strong enough to handle another guilt-dump, so I had to go for this lure-Leander-into-a-false-sense-of-security thing. And no matter how pissed Sy and Con would be once they figured out I'd been tricking them, too, I had to do this. I couldn't risk our lives just to let them know I was playacting, right?

Or. . .could I?

I sneaked a peek up at Leander from the corner of my eye. He was distracted, looking at Con and Sy. Not watching me. He didn't spare a glance when I lifted my head a little, didn't react when I heaved a giant, morose-sounding sigh.

He was focused on someone other than me right now.

So I risked it.

I winked.

And nothing happened.

There was no reaction. They. . ._had they even been looking?_ Did they miss it? Idiots!

Leander said something to them, but I didn't catch it. I was too busy cussing out Sy and Con. Because, like, _seriously?_ I'm _me!_ I've always got something up my sleeve! Even when I don't even _have_ sleeves! If I were them I wouldn't've given up. I would've kept looking for something, something that would tell me that I wasn't acting like me for a reason.

Leander's arm tightened around my shoulders and I realized we were turning. Leaving.

Something Colette had Morse-coded me earlier suddenly popped up in my mind, making my heart sink.

_If he's convinced, he'll take you to his room. He'll want to make you his in every way._

I could've laughed aloud at the hysteria-inducing hopelessness of the situation. This day just kept getting better, didn't it?

* * *

lots of pov-switching in this chapter. hope it didn't make ya dizzy.


	34. Chapter 34

. . .oh no. it's happening again.

I'M COMING TO THE END OF A STORY! AHHHHH!

whew. now that _that's_ out of my system, i just thought i'd give ya a head's-up. almost over :( few more chapters and it's done. and there might not be another sequel (for a while, at least).

SO NOW. i'm gonna ask, just like with _when sparks fly_, what your favorite part of the story was (so far). detailed review/critique, no liked it all/hated it all so i can't decide, blahdidy blah blah blah. so if anybody's still out there, review this time. please?

disclaimer: don't own maximum ride.

* * *

_**34. hero and leander**_

"Here."

I slipped up and showed emotion-surprise. I held my newly-freed hands up in front of my face, mouth slightly agape as Leander dropped the manacles to the floor with a loud, metallic clatter. I looked up at him and he was smiling.

"If you're really ready to play nice now, then there's no need for those," he said with a shrug. Then he looked me right in the eye and his smile twisted, becoming more like a sinister smirk than an innocent grin. "Right?"

_. . .He's testing me,_ I thought, watching his weirdo pearly eyes. _So as much as I want to, I can't run. It's a test. Stay cool._

So, in response to his question, I dropped my hands and folded them behind my back.

And I didn't run.

The sinister-ness (sinisterity?) to Leander's expression disappeared; I passed. I sighed a mental sigh of relief and turned as Leander brushed past me to start down the hall. I fell into step beside him, wondering exactly when I should try to take advantage of the situation. Not right away, surely-he'd still be a little wary for a while. I may have been free in the literal sense, but in a way I knew Leander would keep me on a short leash.

Almost as if he'd read my mind, Leander dropped his arm over my shoulders again. It took me by surprise, so I flinched, and cursed myself for doing so. What if he suspected something?

But no. Leander just chuckled and lifted a hand to ruffle my hair. "It's fine if you're a little jumpy," he said. "I know it'll probably be hard for you to, but don't worry. You'll get used to me."

_No, I won't,_ I thought. But I didn't say anything out loud. Not that that mattered-Leander was suddenly in a good mood, and chatty enough to carry on the conversation by himself.

"So now that you're mine now, it won't be weird if I take care of you, right?" he asked. I didn't reply (too focused on controlling my gag reflex), but Leander acted as if I did. "Right."

He suddenly stopped and moved away from me. I tensed and half-turned, expecting him to. . .I don't know, attack or something, but he was just stopping to open one of the many doors along the hallway. I took a teeny step back, afraid it was his room and he'd want to take me in there, but he didn't even look back at me. He just pushed the door open and stood in the doorway. I tried to get a look inside and saw only white (of course).

Finally, I heard Colette's voice say, "Leander?"

"Hi, Colette," Leander said warmly.

Then he pulled his gun and fired.

I admit it freely: I jumped back in surprise and fear. And I may have even squeaked. My heart stopped as well, like it too had been shot, and for a few seconds I couldn't breathe. Leander turned around to check on me and I did my best to assume a neutral expression despite the fact I was freaking out inside. I could hardly believe he'd just done that. I strained to hear a noise, any sign of life from within Colette's room, but. . .nothing.

She was dead.

Leander watched me carefully, looking for any sort of reaction, but I kept calm. If-and I know how cold this is going to sound-but if I let the cat out of the bag, I'd end up like Colette, and I didn't want that. If I busted out in tears or something, Leander would know something was up. So I had to pretend I didn't care.

_Stay cool._

I seemed to pass another test, because Leander stuck his gun back in its holster and stepped back into the hallway, pulling Colette's door closed behind him. "So that's taken care of," he said before turning and striding down the hall again.

I hesitated for only a second. I mean, I was tempted to sneak a peek into Colette's room to see if she was really. . .dead. . .but instead I followed Leander. I had to keep up the act. And as far as Leander was aware I hadn't been too crazy about the girl to begin with.

All those naggingly negative thoughts started wriggling in the back of my brain again. Yeah, Colette's death was probably my fault. But I pushed the thought back because I couldn't let myself think about it now. I had my own problems.

_Besides,_ I tried to console myself, _if she really knew what Leander was like, she probably knew she stood a chance of dying once I "broke." She knew it was coming. Probably. Right?_

Yeah, right.

About three-quarters of the way down the hall, Leander stopped outside another door. He put his hand on the handle, but turned to me before opening it. He smiled.

"This is my room," he said. _Shit._ "You'll stay in here now."

_Well, isn't that great,_ I thought sarcastically. But on the outside, I showed no emotion. Not even surprise, because when Leander opened the door and let me into the room, the walls and carpet and ceiling weren't white: they were black. Darker than night, an evil black that seemed to suit Leander perfectly despite his white demeanor. It was all a huge contrast to the rest of the building, so much that it almost made me sick. . .but I had to keep quiet.

_Stay cool._

I hesitated once inside; I heard Leander close the door behind him and sensed him standing right behind me. I didn't move. Let him go first. Reacting was easier than acting. _So come on, Leander. Just try me._

He stepped closer. I had to fight to not shudder. He was going to try to touch me, wasn't he? Leander's hands came up and rested lightly on my shoulders.

"Spark," he said quietly.

_Stay cool._

Uh, sorry, but no way.

Not only could I not stand it, but I also wouldn't have another chance (or so I told myself). I shut my eyes and blindly reached back for Leander's hip: my hand closed around the pearly white holster of his gun and I yanked it out. I elbowed him hard in the ribs and lurched forward, getting out of his reach and whirling around so I could flaunt my newfound weapon. Leander had reeled back into the door; he blinked in surprise, but then broke out into a bit of a startled grin. _Why's he smiling?_ He tried to take a step and I freaked, backing up and pointing the gun.

"Stop right there!" I shouted. Leander's smile faded some, and his eyes flashed, but he did as I said and halted. I cocked the gun and swallowed. "Don't move, Leander."

"Oh, so you're serious about this." The smile crept back over his face and taunted, "Don't move, huh? Or what? You'll shoot? Please, Spark. You don't want to shoot me."

". . .No," I admitted reluctantly, "but I will anyway. And I will _not_ feel bad about it."

Leander shook his head, his shoulders trembling as he laughed. He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, tilting his head as he looked at me. "All right. I can play this game. From the looks of it it won't be long before you lose it and become mine again."

Normally a statement like that would rile me up, but I think we can all agree now that this isn't exactly a normal situation. Leander was right-from an outsider's point of view, I didn't look like I'd last too long in a stand-off like this. I was all shifty and uneasy. Tense. That close to snapping. My hands shook a little, and I tried but couldn't get them to hold still. I'd already backed up a few steps as well, putting myself further from the door and nearer to the room's back corner. So yeah, not exactly the perfect image of confident escapee at the moment.

"Y-you killed Colette," I stuttered without thinking. "I'm not going to let you kill me, too."

One of his eyebrows quirked up. "So what if I killed the whore? I didn't need her, so I got rid of her."

"That's one of the reasons you are _crazy_ and will never _keep_ me here!" I snapped. Anger seemed to steady my hand, so I let it in. "I may not have been here long, but I've figured you out, Leander. The second you're bored with me, I die. And I'm not going to let that happen."

"I won't get bored with you," he tried to say, but in my fury I squeezed the trigger. I hadn't braced myself, so the gun's kickback made my aim go all screwy. Leander didn't even have to duck to avoid the bullet. Stupid prick didn't even flinch.

_God damn it,_ I cursed. I'd just wasted a shot, and I had no idea how many bullets this stupid thing had. Whatever that top number was, it was now down by two. One for Colette, and one for the wall. But Leander wasn't trying to come at me, so I could only assume I still had at least one shot left. It was hoping beyond hope that this old-time six-shooter had been fully loaded for that last venture into Con and Sy's holding cell.

"Don't try me," I snarled, trying to appear as if I'd meant to fire. "Next time I shoot, I _will_ kill you."

Leander smirked. "Are you so sure you'll be able to?"

My spirit sank because I knew what he was going to do next.

And there was nothing I could do to stop it.

* * *

_It's happening again. Colors blur and distort as Leander invades my mind and searches for a place to show me. This time I close my eyes, and the pain in them ebbs a little bit. But the images remain in my head, speeding by like a video on fast-forward._

_When it stops, I hear crying._

_I look around and my heart skips a beat-I'm at home. In the living room, with its brown leather couch and matching leather chair, with its big-screen TV and its simple brown coffee table. A few dog hairs lay on the table's surface, its dark paint making the lighter tan and white stick out._

_The source of the crying is coming from the couch._

_Mom's sitting there, with my sister Kendra sitting beside her and my brother Jeremy sitting beside _her._ Dad's in the chair, and the dog is sitting meekly at his side. My father's hand is repetitively stroking TJ's back, but I know he's only doing it so he doesn't have to look at Mom._

_Looking at my mother breaks my heart. She's curled up in the corner of the couch, her face buried in her hands, crying so hard it's nearly impossible to figure out what she's trying to say._

_Eventually, Kenny asks, "So she's. . .staying with them?"_

_I know they're talking about me._

_Dad nods. "Yeah. She was getting really angry and said she'd go crazy if she had to come back. So I said she could do what she felt she needed to do."_

You jackass,_ I think, taken aback. _You total and complete jackass. That is _not_ how it happened!

_But I should have expected this. Twisting it around to make it seem like he isn't the bad guy. Hell, I'm not there to tell them he's wrong. I can only hope Kenny's massive distrust of our parents can keep her strong, even if Mom and Jeremy lose complete faith in me._

_Mom cries even harder, if that's possible. She starts keening "Why, why, my baby, my baby," and Dad goes back to petting TJ. But the dog hauls himself up and leaves him, instead loping over to Mom's side in an attempt to comfort her. I see Jeremy quickly drag his hand across his eyes, which makes the guilt train hit me even harder. My brother _never_ cries. In the past year, I've seen Mom cry, I've seen Dad cry, and I've seen Kenny cry, but I have not seen my brother cry in years._

_"Look at the damage you're causing," Leander's voice says softly; my heart sinks at just the thought. He really knows how to groom a person into thinking whatever he wants. He could tell some random person on the street that they were the reason 9-11 happened. _And they'd believe him.

_But I can't. I can't let him do this to me again, I can't let him break me._

_I have to fight him._

_He starts talking again, but I shut my eyes and block my ears with my hands. It's a childish gesture, but it's all I can think of. And it kind of works-Leander's voice isn't so strong, and of course I'm not watching the scene unfold anymore._

_I know I can't keep letting him show me these things, because if he does then I don't stand a snowball's chance in hell. But what am I supposed to do? _I_ can't control _his_ power._

_. . .Can I?_

_I think about it, all the while still blocking out the sounds of Leander's voice and my mother's sobs. My eyes are starting to hurt from keeping them shut so tight, but I ignore them. What if I _can_ control Leander's skill? What if he's not as powerful as I thought? What if he's only able to make you see things in a certain place, and isn't in control of _what_ you see? Like, you _can_ see good things, but you only see negative things because he's talked you into thinking about them?_

_Worth a shot, right?_

_I try to relax. I try to calm down, think happy thoughts. Exactly what have I done that's good?_

_Everything goes quiet, but then there's laughter. And it's not Leander's. I open my eyes and look around._

_We're in the same room, and the same people are all here, but the mood is vastly different. There are smiles and laughter. There's happiness._

_And I'm there in the room, too. It's no longer a vision. Just a memory._

_Kenny and Jeremy are rocking out at Guitar Hero. Mom and Dad are watching, and so am I. It's weird, watching myself. I'm sitting there on the floor, catching the ball and throwing it again every time the dog brings it back. Watching myself laugh when my siblings yell at me for making the dog get in their way and mess up their concentration._

_It's difficult trying to shake the feeling of betrayal from Dad, but I find that if I just skip over him then I can smile. Mom's overly impressed at her children's skill at hitting buttons, TJ's all riled up, and Kenny and Jeremy are having a blast. So it's nice. No more tears, no more anger. Nobody looks sad or lost or mad. I remember that I'd flown to Best Buy that day-Kenny and I had pooled the leftover money on our gift cards to be able to buy the game. So in a way, I'd helped cause this happiness._

_See? I'm not all bad. I can do good._

_I'm not all bad._

_

* * *

_

I woke from the memory with a gasp; my chest felt tight, and I was panting like my lungs had shrunk to the size of a baby's. My head was pounding, and cold sweat had my shirt sticking to my back. I opened my eyes slowly and I found I had fallen to the floor; my legs were all tingly, like they'd fallen asleep. My jaw immediately clenched, because I knew now I was weaker than ever. I mean, come on. Stuck in the corner, huddled up into a little ball, with a gun that had maybe two shots left. Not to mention having the mental stability of a schizophrenic and the strength of a Stockholm's syndrome patient.

It looked bad. And at the moment I couldn't think of when it'd looked worse.

"What. . .what were you doing?"

I looked up.

Leander was closer than he'd been before, towering over me and glaring down. His eyes were narrowed practically to slits, and his jaw looked tight. His hands were clenched as well, trembling fists at his sides. Frustrated confusion radiated from every part of him.

For once, he was angry. It showed in his voice when he repeated, "What were you doing?"

_So he knows I changed it,_ I thought. I took a breath, braced myself for defiance and said lightly, "Me? I wasn't doing anything, Leander. You were just making me see things. Weren't you?"

"Cut the crap," he snapped, and I had to fight to not flinch. "You weren't seeing what you were supposed to be seeing."

I hesitated. "So?"

"What. Did. You. See?" Leander asked, slow and menacing.

"Some stuff," I said vaguely, getting back into the swing of witty comebacks. "And some things. And I think there were even some objects."

_"Stop it!"_

I jumped as he stomped his foot and slammed his hand against the wall. Others would see this as a bratty move, but somehow Leander had lost all his childish aspects. He was all white fury now, with no time for messing around. He was scarier than my dad could be, and that was pretty damn scary.

"Wh-what'd I do?" I asked, accidentally stumbling over my words. I regretted it instantly, because stuttering showed that I was scared. I couldn't let him know how freaked I was right now, because he'd just use it against me. He'd hammer me with that stupid power of his and talk me back into thinking I was an awful person. Which I'm not. I think.

_Stay cool._

"You're not acting how you're supposed to act!" Leander growled, stalking forward. On instinct I raised the gun and pointed it at him; he stopped.

But then he laughed.

"Oh, come on!" he sneered. "You don't have the power to kill me. You're too fucking scared of what I'll do if you fail."

He was right on that. My hands were shaking. I'd never killed anyone before. And yeah, I'd shot a gun with the intention of hitting somebody before, but I guess I always thought I'd just hurt them, not kill them. Was I strong enough to end a life? Could I live with myself after killing somebody?

Well, if that somebody was Leander. . .

_Stay cool._

"Oh yeah?" I challenged, tightening my grip on the gun to stop my hands from shaking. Leander raised an eyebrow at me mockingly. "Then why aren't you coming closer? _You're_ just scared I'll actually hurt you. Nobody's done that to you before, have they?"

Leander didn't say anything, but something in his expression changed. I almost smiled. Now _I_ had the chance to get to _him._ Revenge is oh, so sweet.

I stood up, still keeping the gun pointed at him as I started to talk. "No, you've never been hurt. Because you're perfect, right? You're the guy who gets everything he wants, because he's got the most powerful people in the world wrapped around his little finger."

Leander didn't say anything.

My heart was thundering so loud I wouldn't've been surprised if he could hear it. But I tried to calm the nervous, tingling sensation that was making me feel weak and pressed on.

_Stay cool._

"And the first time you find someone who _might_ hurt you, you do whatever you can to break them," I said. "It's a game, isn't it? See how long they last before they break like all the others. Because eventually, they _will_ break. They just _have_ to, because that's what you want. And you always get what you want."

"Not this time." Leander smiled. "I knew when they told me about you you'd be different. And you are. You've lasted longer than anyone else. I'm impressed."

"But also pissed off," I retorted, and his smile vanished. I knew I had some control now, but if that was true, why was my body still reacting like I was having an anxiety attack? My hands were numb around the gun and I was surprised that I was even standing. But I had to keep talking; it was all that was keeping me alive now. "Because I'm not broken yet. And that's what you want. You want me to break so you can do whatever you want with me. But I'm not going to let that happen, and you know that."

"Of course I know that you think that," Leander said simply. He shrugged and stuck his hands in his pockets. Then he took a step forward, forcing me back a step. Smirking, he said, "But it's just not true, Spark. Yes, I want you to break, and yes, I want to play with you, but you're wrong on the last part. I'll make it happen. It's inevitable."

_Stay cool._

I gulped, but am proud to say my voice didn't crack or shake. "No, it's not. Nothing's inevitable 'cept for death and taxes. And I'm only fifteen, so I've got a ways to go before I have to face either of those things."

"If you stay here, you'll face neither."

I glared and promised, "I'll kill myself before I let you touch me."

"Well, I've al_ready_ touched you, and you don't seem to be dead," Leander countered cockily. "So it looks like you're a liar, too, to go along with all the other things you are."

"So what if I lie every now and then? That's not bad!" I protested. My hands were burning now, pins and needles attacking them as I regained feeling. The anxiety was passing. _I could do this._

_Stay cool._

"And yeah, I'll admit that I've done some pretty stupid things that have hurt my friends and family, but what's done is done! I can't change it, so I'm not gonna waste my life dwelling on it! If I can't be forgiven, then oh well! I'll find something else to do! But I will _not_ let you try to convince me that I'm a bad person!"

"I never said you were a bad person," Leander said pleasantly. "I only said you'd be better off here, where you can't hurt anybody."

"I don't care what you said. I'm not staying here."

He laughed again. "Look at you, trying to sound all tough! As if you could actually leave me! You're cute, Spark. But I'll like you better _after_ you're broken and willing to do whatever I want."

I blanched as Leander started coming at me again.

I backed up into the wall and shut my eyes.

_Stay cool._

* * *

Okay, so the first shot made them wonder, and the second shot made them worry, but it was the third shot that made them freak. As far as they knew, there were only five people in the entire building. Leander, Spark, themselves, and that Colette girl Leander had mentioned. And since the two of them were stuck in here. . .

Sy had already summoned up that last dribble of water from the water bottle on the floor, but try as he might he couldn't make the lethal silver tips do more than scrape the paint off the metal contraption that pinned his wrists to the wall.

Con's yelling at him wasn't helping, either.

"Oh, come _on,_ your arms are like toothpicks!" he exclaimed. "How the fuck can you _not_ slide them through?"

"Shut _up,_ Con," Sy said back, his frustration rising almost beyond control. His entire neck and shoulder area was aching, and because he was bending his wrist the metal cuffs were cutting into his skin, too. Now was not the time to be pestering him.

"Well what d'you want me to do, just sit here quietly while you take forever getting out?" Con demanded. "I'm trying to motivate you to go faster, here!"

The only motivation Sy was getting from that was the thought that the faster he escaped, the sooner he could punch Con in the face.

. . .So, yeah. It was actually kind of working.

Con started "motivating" him again, but Sy blocked his voice out best he could and tried to slide his arm further up so his wrist would have more room to move. The metal cut into his skin, but if he could just get his wrist free. . .

"Shit," Con suddenly said. "Sy, you're bleeding. Stop for a second."

"No thanks." Gross and painful as it was, the blood made his arm slippery, easier to slide through the brace. _Almost there, almost there._

"Okay, seriously, stop! You're hurting yourself!"

The serrated edge on the tip of his middle finger caught the bottom edge of the brace. Sy smirked. _There._

With one forceful pull that nearly broke his hand, Sy dragged the silver cap up, tearing through the brace like a knife through canvas. The effort left a jagged inch of space through which he could tug his arm away from the wall.

"Ow!" Sy cursed loudly as the metal dragged over his skin, slicing open his wrist. Hissing in pain, he pressed his now-free arm to his stomach, his already blood-stained shirt soaking up even more blood.

"You idiot!" Con snapped, and Sy tossed him a glare. "It's no use trying to escape if you bleed out and die before we're free!"

"Maybe I'll just leave you here," he threatened, shakily raising his injured arm so he could free the other one. "Let you get out for yourself."

"Don't be a dick," Con growled. "Come get me out." Then, eyeing Sy's bloody arm, he added, "And don't you dare bleed on me because if you do I'll kick your ass."

Sy smirked as he wrapped his left hand around his right wrist, the silver on his fingertips dissolving and trickling down as he directed it to heal his cuts. "While it's cute that you're concerned for my well-being, it's even cuter to hear a killer say he doesn't like blood."

Con rolled his eyes as Sy came up to pick the lock on his brace-the fish hybrid had just enough silvery residue left to use as a type of liquid lock-pick.

Con shifted uneasily as Sy worked. "So what if I'm not crazy about blood? Some people have diseases, you know. And I only ever killed people when they got in the way of our job."

"Fascinating." Sy flipped the brace open and Con ducked away from the wall; he then straightened up and took a deep breath as he stretched his arms.

"God, that killed my shoulders," Con said, rolling his head to crack his neck. "It's gonna hurt if I have to fly anytime soon. Go pick the lock on the door so we can find Spark and get out of here."

Sy rolled his eyes and went to kneel down by the door. It was a simple lock, so he had it picked in a few seconds, but once it was open he paused, an evil thought having popped into his head.

_Hmm. . ._

"Oh, come on, what's taking so long?" Con asked impatiently, walking up to hover over him. "It can't be that serious of a-_gah!_"

Con jumped back, but wasn't quick enough: Sy had turned and swiped his arm across Con's legs, smearing blood across his white pants.

"Ah! Gross! Uncalled for! You jerk!" Sy cracked up laughing as Con stumbled back, shaking his legs as if the blood would come off. Because, like, seriously? Not once had Sy ever seen Con freak out over something so mundane. Hell, he'd hardly seen Con freak out at all. And while he knew a lot of people didn't like blood, it was just hilarious that Con was one of those people.

"That's. . .what you get. . .for torturing me," he said as he started to catch his breath back. Con stopped dancing around and scowled at him. Sy just gave him a look that said, _Oh, come on._

"I didn't mean to do what I did," Con said coldly. He pointed down at the red line across his shins. "But you did that on purpose. Dick move."

"Oh, quit bitching. _Anybody_ would've done that," Sy retorted, rolling his eyes. He stood up and opened the door, standing back so Con could go through first. "Shall we?"

"Faggot." Con grumbled a few more insults under his breath as he stalked out of the cell and into the hallway. Sy bit back a smirk and followed.

The hall was, unsurprisingly, completely white. Each wall was lined with about seven doors, with another door at either end of the building. One of the doors, about halfway down the hall on the right side, was sitting ajar. Sy and Con glanced at each other, silently agreeing to go check out that room first.

They ran, and Con got there first. He carefully pushed the door open and Sy saw him go tense.

"Ah, shit," he cursed.

"What?" Sy asked. Con drew back so he could look inside-the sight made his chest go tight. "Oh."

A small girl, maybe a little younger than they were, was sprawled out on a white bed. Her pale blond hair was fanned out over the pillow, and her eyes were carefully closed. She was entirely still, not even breathing. A rosette of crimson blood stained her white shirt over the heart.

"At least it's not Spark," Con muttered.

Sy turned to stare at him. "Do you have no soul? That's a person. That is a _living person._ And she's a kid, which makes it worse."

"Well would you rather it was Spark?" Con asked, raising an eyebrow at him. "Rather it was someone you know, and care about? Okay then. When we next see Spark, I'm going to tell her you wish she was dead."

"Stupid bastard," Sy mumbled, shaking his head. He shoved past Con to get into the room, heading to the girl's side. She may have looked it, but she wasn't quite dead yet. He'd know.

Sy carefully sat on the edge of the bed and took the girl's hand. It was cool, and when he felt for a pulse it was only barely there. Sy glanced around and saw a bottle of water sitting on the corner of a table just beside the bed. He reached for it, but another hand got to it first.

He looked up as Con gave him the bottle. The bird-kid just asked, "Think you can help her?"

"I don't know," he said honestly, unscrewing the bottle's cap. He tipped it and caught the water as he went on. "She's lost a lot of blood, and she's barely conscious. I'm surprised she's still even alive."

"Just hurry up," Con said, turning to go back to the door. "We don't know who got hit by those other two shots we heard."

Sy glared at Con's back for a moment before returning to the girl on the bed. His hand, once again tipped with silver points, hovered over the bullet wound for just a second before lightly touching down on her chest. The silver glowed faintly for a second, then dissolved and vanished into the girl's injury, chasing after the bullet.

Nothing happened.

His heart fluttered. Of course, nothing could incite a panic so much as when Spark was hurt and dying, but he still went nervous when anybody was seriously injured. He tried again, but this time half of the healing silver liquid didn't even go in to mend the damage.

A little frantic now, Sy checked for her pulse again. But this time he couldn't find it. Not anywhere.

"Damn it," Sy said softly. He clenched his fists so his hands wouldn't shake. Some things just couldn't be fixed, couldn't be healed, and it killed him every time he came across those things. Frustration and guilt swirled through his head, making his skull ache and the rest of him go tense. If only they'd escaped sooner, if only they hadn't messed around and wasted time. If only-

"Sy." He blinked back to reality as he felt Con's hand on his shoulder. "If she's dead, there's nothing you can do."

"But she wasn't," he said, staring down at his hand, curled into a trembling ball on his knee. He'd saved others from worse than this; why hadn't he been able to save her? "She was still alive, but I couldn't-"

"It's not your fault," Con interrupted. "You tried, but you couldn't fix this one. Sorry, but. . .there's nothing else you can do now."

"Let go." Sy stood up suddenly, jerking his shoulder to throw off Con's hand. "We have to find Spark."

All right, so maybe he lost this one, Sy thought to himself as he left the dead girl's room and went out into the hall. But if he just waited around griping about it, that could mean he was wasting time that could be used to save Spark. Two other shots had been fired, and only two of the remaining four people were accounted for. He had to find her.

"Which way?" Con asked, carefully pulling the door closed behind him as he, too, entered the hall. "I would assume he kept Spark at the opposite end from us, but there's no way of telling."

Sy barely heard him. Sure, he got to have the power to heal people, and sure, the majority of the time he could fix anything. But sometimes fate just decided to say "fuck it" and killed off some innocent girl just to screw with him. It sucked. He'd thought he could forget it and focus on finding Spark, but. . .

His vision went hazy, a dark, black-red cloud falling over his eyes.

The next thing Sy was aware of was his head, cracking against the floor and making the dark cloud disappear from his sight. He lay there on his back for a second, staring blankly up at the white ceiling and wondering what had happened.

Then he was aware of Con's voice, yelling at him.

"Seriously, you jerk? First you go off and get blood on me, then you get pissed 'cuz you couldn't save the dead girl, and now you decide to just fuck it and let Dylan take over? Uh, no. Sorry, buddy, but you can't just punk out and sulk every time something shitty happens."

_That's funny, coming from the guy who holds a grudge for ten years,_ Sy thought dryly. He shut his eyes momentarily-the white was practically blinding-but apparently that wouldn't fly with Con, because it earned him a kick in the side that sent pain spiraling throughout his torso.

"No, you're gonna listen to me, okay! You have to quit letting Dylan take advantage of your weak spots. I don't care if you get mad, but you have to make sure it's only _you_ getting mad. Keep red-eyed freak boy out of it, because I swear, if I have to knock the red out of your eyes one more time I'm just going to kill you and be done with it!"

Sy took a breath to soothe the pain before he sat up. His head spun, but after a second of holding still it went away. He looked around at Con and said, "I think the kick was unnecessary."

"And I thought the blood was unnecessary," he snapped back. Sy bit his lip to keep from smirking. "As was the violence to the door."

"Huh?" He looked around to where Con was pointing and felt a frown pull at his mouth. The doorway directly across from the girl's room was splintered, its door hanging half off its hinges. "Oh. Whups."

"Uh, yeah, _whups,_" Con sneered. He sighed as Sy picked himself up of the floor and added, "Normally I'd smack you for a dumbass move like that, but it actually did something to help."

"Might I ask what?" Sy asked, lifting his hand to rub the back of his head. It didn't hurt so much now, and he couldn't feel any blood, but there was a bump.

"Well, look around," Con said, waving his arm in a vague gesture to the empty hallway. "Nobody's coming to see what made the noise. Specifically. . ."

"_Leander_ isn't coming," Sy finished, and Con nodded. "Which means he's somehow unable to." Con nodded again and Sy hesitated. "But Spark's not coming, either. Which means _she's_ somehow unable to."

"Or maybe just unwilling," Con corrected. Sy gave him a look and he shrugged. "As far as she knows Leander had other accomplices. I doubt she's thinking we've actually come to a type of truce in order to escape. Which might also be why she hasn't tried yelling for help."

"I hope you're right." Sy took a breath and looked up and down the hall. "But she has to be in one of these rooms, right?"

"Yeah. So start pickin' locks, Fish Boy. I'll sit here and watch."

It took some effort to not come back with an insulting response, but Sy managed it. Con followed along behind him as he methodically picked locks, glanced in rooms, and moved on to the next door. He went along the one wall before circling up and working on the other. Most of the rooms were empty, save the one which they assumed had been Spark's holding cell at some point.

They were two doors down from the dead girl's room when they found her.

_"NO!"_

Sy and Con both cursed and jerked out of the way as a gun went off. They looked back and saw the hole embedded in the wall opposite the door, an ugly black smudge in the otherwise flawless expanse of white. Then they looked at each other in confusion before turning to look inside the room.

Everything was black. Well, mostly everything. Spark was inside, on the floor, huddled into a corner. Both of her hands were clutched, claw-like, around the pearl-handled pistol that had once resided in Leander's white leather holster. The gun was shaking violently, but the girl holding it was probably shaking harder. Her hair was a flyaway mess, her eyes were wide and staring, and her once perfect white clothes were now wrinkled and blood-spattered.

And Leander was on the floor just in front of her, laying in such a way that he could've been sleeping. Had there not been blood pooling from his chest.

Spark just looked so small, and so vulnerable, and so terrified, that she was hardly recognizable. But she seemed to recognize them. Well, she lowered the gun and stopped shaking some. And she blinked a few times.

But she didn't say anything. She looked at them for a while, but eventually it was Leander that held her gaze.

"I don't think she's okay."

Sy jumped a little at Con's voice, and glanced over to where the bird-kid was peering through the doorway beside him. He was staring at Spark, a mixed expression of disbelief and puzzlement clouding his face.

Sy looked back into the room and knew that Con was right.

Spark, the toughest, strongest, most light-hearted and carefree person he had ever met, was not okay. She didn't look happy, or even relieved that Leander, probably the one guy in the entire world who could truly hurt her, was dead. No, she looked shocked as she stared at his unmoving body, and maybe she looked a little sad, too.

* * *

_I play with them as if they're toys, noting not their anguished noise._

_These ones, too, I manipulate, not caring how I change their fate._

_Leander shows me truthful things, with his power fit for kings._

_I don't want to be me now, I just want to die somehow._

_If only he would drown himself, then I could happily kill myself._

_He thinks that I belong to him, but that belief is very dim._

_I am NOT his favorite toy, I don't even like this boy._

_This game is set to end, my friend, the finale's just around the bend._

_My name is Spark, and I'm just me._

_I'm not the Hero he wants me to be._


	35. Chapter 35

wooooww. last chapter sure was long, huh? but in case you were wondering, no, it was not the longest in spark's story. in fact, it's tied for second at 39 KB with chapter forty-two of _when sparks fly._ and first place goes to that story's thirty-third chapter, which reigns supreme at 40 KB.

but anyway! thanks for all the reviews for last chapter, guys :) i'm glad you've all stayed with the story for so long, and it'll be sad to see it end, but what can ya do? there are only so many crazy situations i can put dear spark through before she _really_ loses her mind. and i rather like her when she's sane. . .

disclaimer: don't own maximum ride.

* * *

_**35. simple joy**_

Con leaned against the doorway, standing back as Sy rushed to Spark's side. He watched the fish hybrid as he carefully avoided Leander's body and knelt down at beside Spark, watched as Sy reached for Spark's hands, where she was still limply holding the gun.

"Spark," Sy said gently. "Let go. Come on, drop the gun. We'll get out of here."

Spark didn't respond right away, but she didn't resist as Sy pulled the gun out of her grasp, either. It was creepy, her just sitting there and not talking like she was. Con remembered that she'd winked before, to tell them she was all right, but this time it was different. He had a strong suspicion that she wasn't faking anymore.

"Dammit," Sy cursed, and Con's eyes flitted from Spark to look at him. "You were right. She's not okay."

Con raised his eyebrow. "Are we talking physically or mentally? Because if we're talking about her physical health, she looks fine. Which means she can walk, which means we can get out of here. So let's go."

"Can't you give her a minute?" Sy demanded irritably. "I don't think she's killed anyone before, she's probably freaking out."

"Well, _I_ don't think she's a child, Sy," Con retorted mockingly, "so I think she'll eventually get over it." Then he turned and went out into the hall again, calling back, "There's probably a car somewhere close by. Let's get out of here so I can forget this whole stupid thing ever happened."

He heard Sy mumble something, and although he didn't exactly hear correctly he knew it was probably something insulting. He stifled the urge to chuckle at his anger, but all of a sudden he heard Spark's voice and he stopped.

"He's really dead, huh?"

Con turned. Back in the room, Sy had Spark by the hand and seemed to be in the process of leading her out, but either Spark was resisting or Sy had just stopped in surprise. He glanced at Con, who shrugged.

Sy rolled his eyes at him before turning to Spark. "Um, yeah, Spark. He's dead. So let's get out of here, okay?"

Spark nodded numbly, her eyes still fixed on the corpse.

"Spark?" Sy asked, looking concerned. "Are you okay?"

". . .Fine," she breathed, but she sure didn't look it. Con frowned as he realized what was about to happen-Shadow and Avi had done the exact same thing.

"You might want to get out of her way, Sy," he warned.

"Huh?"

Spark jerked into motion, ripping her hand out of Sy's and turning away. She tried to take a step, but didn't make it before she hunched over and puked her guts out in the corner of the room. Both Con and Sy flinched and shuddered as she did so.

"Lovely," Sy said dryly. Since Spark had finished, he approached her again and tried to console her. He put his hand on her back, talked to her in a voice so quiet Con couldn't hear what he was saying. But just watching it made a frown pull at his mouth.

Couples were annoying.

It took a few moments, but eventually Spark took a breath, nodding at whatever Sy had said and taking his hand again. They didn't linger any longer in the black room-Sy led Spark out into the hallway, and once they were out Con shut the door behind them, and. . .that was that.

_Now all that's left is to get out of here,_ Con thought, automatically looking up and down the hall. Judging from the layout of the building, it was just this one hall of rooms, with that one door all the way at the other end probably leading outside.

"Hey. . ."

Con glanced back at Sy and Spark and saw Sy had something in his hand, something that seemed attached to Spark's neck. He looked again and realized it was a necklace.

"What's wrong now?" he demanded impatiently, crossing his arms. "Did he strap her with a chip?"

"No, it's. . .this isn't the one I had," Sy said in confusion. He looked at Spark and asked, "Spark, how'd you get this?"

But of course she didn't answer. She just looked away.

"How'd you get this?" Sy asked again, sounding like he was talking to an uncooperative child. "Did Leander give it to you? Or someone else?"

Annoyed (and a little curious) now, Con rolled his eyes and walked to Sy's side, asking, "What are you talking about?" He blinked and faltered when he saw the thing pinched in Sy's fingers. "Wait, you were gonna give her that?"

"No," Sy replied with a sigh, dropping the jeweled pendant. Then he shook his head and corrected himself. "Well, I mean, yeah, but that isn't the same one that I had. It's pretty similar, but not the same."

Con inspected the necklace, a tear-shaped stone set amid curls of silver, strung on a fine silver chain. "Looks like a shitty piece of secondhand junk to me," he said bluntly. "It's all scratched up. You sure know how to pick a gift."

"I don't care about this one," Sy snapped back, and Con tried not to smirk. "I'm wondering where the real one is."

He blinked. "Real one?"

_"Yes,"_ the fish hybrid said slowly. He reached out and held up the stone again. "For the fourth time, this isn't the one I had."

Con scowled at his tone. "I'm not an idiot, I heard what you said. What I meant was, how can you even tell that that one's not the one you had?"

"My mom was obsessed with jewelry, I know a diamond when I see one," Sy said flatly.

"Wait, that's diamond? You were gonna give her a _diamond?_" he said in disbelief.

"Fucking _listen,_ asshole," Sy snarled. "_This isn't the same one._ The one I had was just an aquamarine. But this one's a diamond. And I'm wondering just how the hell she got a diamond that just happens to look exactly like the stone I was going to give her."

Con hesitated, then nodded toward the closed door of the black room. "You think he switched it for some reason?"

Sy shook his head. "He wouldn't have a reason to. If anything, he'd keep her _away_ from diamond."

"Why?"

"Diamond cuts through anything," Sy said, shrugging. "Spark probably used it to cut through whatever was holding her, that's why it's all scratched up."

". . .Oh." Con glanced at Spark, but she wasn't participating in the conversation. She wasn't even nodding or shaking her head, or giving any inclination whatsoever as to whether or not Sy's speculating was correct.

It was increasingly worrisome that she was like this. Not even Swift was _that_ unresponsive.

"I guess it doesn't matter," Sy said, snapping Con's focus back to the conversation at hand. "Until she's not shell-shocked anymore she's not gonna say. We might as well get out of here, huh?"

"Uh, yeah," Con agreed. "Right. Like I said earlier, he's probably got a car somewhere around. He seems. . .er, seemed like the kind of guy who wouldn't want to be bothered, so he probably kidnapped the three of us and drove us out to the middle of nowhere."

"Sounds right." Sy nodded. "Since all the doors here led to nowhere, it's probably back by the room we were in." He reached down to take Spark's hand before turning and starting to walk down the hall; Con fell into step beside him.

"Bet you anything it's white."

"What is?" Sy asked, glancing at him. "The car?"

"Duh. Everything else here is white, so I bet the car is too," he said. Then, glancing aside as they passed one of the still-closed doors in the hallway, he added, "And we should probably search the rest of this place before we leave, there might be something worth taking."

"I don't see why Leander would keep anything of value here," Sy replied. "He just came here to seclude us from the rest of the world."

"But still. Half the doors are already open, we might as well do the rest."

Sy let out a breath and came to a stop. "Fine. I'll appease your OCD need to open the rest of the doors."

So they searched the entire building, all fifteen rooms, but found nearly nothing worth making note of. There was some food and water in a kitchen-like room, and in a type of storage room they found the clothes they'd all been wearing upon capture, but that was about it.

And, true to Con's assumption, the sixteenth door at the far end of the building led to a garage. And when they flicked on the light, they found a Cadillac convertible parked neatly in the center of the garage.

"Ha." Con smirked. "Told you it'd be white."

"I never contradicted you," Sy replied. He glanced around the walls and saw a set of keys hanging on a hook next to a small remote that most likely opened the garage door. Grabbing the keys, Sy touched the button: the door started to rise, allowing sunlight into the room. They all blinked at its bright warmth-the sterile white setting of inside had made them almost forget what it was like outside.

Suddenly, still trailing along by Sy, Spark said, "Six."

Both boys looked around at her, but she seemed preoccupied with the hem of her shirt.

"Um, what?" Sy said to her.

"Six," she repeated. "Your mom's, that kid's, the motorcycles, the Lamborghini, and this. Six."

The sentence made no sense to Con, but before he could ask what they were talking about he was cut off by Sy's abrupt laughter. Annoyed, he asked loudly, "What is she talking about?"

"We kind of have a habit of illegally taking other people's vehicles," Sy explained, still chuckling. "This makes six."

Con looked at him blankly. "I don't get why that's funny."

The other boy just shrugged in reply. "Just our joke, I guess."

"Well, whatever." Con glanced at the Cadillac, then quickly reached over and snatched the keys out of Sy's limp grasp.

"Hey!" he protested, but Con was already getting into the driver's seat. "Who said you get to drive?"

"Nobody," Con replied, sticking the keys in the ignition and cranking the engine. "But nobody said I couldn't, either."

"Oh really?" Sy asked sarcastically as he (and Spark) approached the car from the other side. Spark broke away from Sy to get into the back seat, leaving him to sit up front with Con. "What if I wanted to drive?"

Con shrugged a shoulder. "Then you should've held the keys tighter."

Sy rolled his eyes, but he was half-smiling as he did so. "Ah, just shut up and get us out of here."

"Fine. I will." Con slammed the pedal to the floor and the engine revved. The car's tires screeched against the cement floor of the garage before the car lurched forward, getting them the hell out of there.

* * *

When the car had coasted to a stop and Con had announced that it was out of gas, I think the main thought in everyone's heads was, _We're screwed._ Because sure, we could fly and run and everything, but other than this tiny lil' road that had led straight out of Leander's garage there was nothing in sight. Logic led us to believe that this road had to lead _somewhere,_ so if we just drove on it long enough we'd reach civilization. But if we flew we'd be too high to follow it. And if Sy ran, he'd keep up, all right, but he'd be going too fast to see.

Plus, I don't think anybody wanted to split up.

That or the car was just too pretty to leave behind.

Intuition (in other words, lots of arguing over what we should do now) had finally led the boys to check the trunk. And lo and behold, there was the gas can. It was just luck that Leander had kept one there, or maybe it was necessity. Perhaps his evil lair was just too far away from anywhere to get there on one tank. But whichever it was, it didn't matter too much. There'd only been the one car, so he couldn't exactly follow.

Plus, he was kinda dead. That was probably a hindrance as well.

But anyway. After Sy had filled the tank, Con had said he needed to stretch his legs some more, so the two of them were now standing in front of the car, consulting the map that they'd found in the glove box and spread out over the hood.

I stared out over the horizon. I doubted I'd be much help, anyway. I doubted I'd be able to do much of anything for a while: something had numbed me. It was just easier to not respond, to coast along and just stare at inanimate objects. There was too much effort involved in doing anything else. . .like walking. . .or talking. . .or making eye-contact. . .

I mean, all right. I've intentionally hurt people before. I admit it. But. . .killing someone's a whole different story. When you hurt someone, they can get better. Sure, they'll hate you, but they'll still be living. They can go off into the world and do whatever they want without anybody stopping them.

But Leander couldn't do that. Because I'd taken the chance away from him.

Don't get me wrong. The guy was a freak, and he probably never would've let me go until one or both of us was dead. But there would always be that nagging "what if." What if I'd let him live? Could I have talked him out of being such a crazy psychopath? Probably not, but still. What if I hadn't killed him? What if I'd managed to escape without having to resort to. . .what I'd done? I was used to running. We could have evaded him like we'd evaded Itex for the past two months. And maybe, eventually, someone else could have killed him.

Yeah. Someone else could have killed him. Not me. Anybody else, so long as I didn't have to live with this. . .miserable vortex of confused bleh that had been roiling throughout my mind ever since I'd pulled the trigger.

_Or maybe it's better this way,_ I thought, shifting lower in my seat. Maybe it was better that _I_ was the one dealing with this. If _I_ didn't want it, what made me think anybody else did?

I crossed my arms and tried to listen to whatever it was Sy and Con were talking about. It didn't matter what they were saying-anything would do if it drowned out the uncertain whispers in my mind.

"So all we gotta do is get back to Sydney and I think we'll be good," said Con. _Still talkin' over the map, huh?_ I thought. "I really doubt Max moved at all since Spark and you went missing, and even if she did there's it's not like it's impossible to find a phone. We'll call her mom and go from there, I guess."

"Is Sydney within driving distance?" Sy asked. "Where are we now?"

"Uh, here?" Con didn't sound too sure of himself. "I think?"

Sy's voice was flat. "You _think._"

"Hey, I'm just following the road," Con said defensively. "_You're_ the one who's supposed to be covering the map, why are you asking me in the first place?"

"You never said."

"It was obvious!"

I felt my lips twitch.

"Okay. First of all, the _driver's_ the one who's supposed to know where he is and where he's going. And second of all, in case you haven't noticed there isn't exactly a place on the map labeled 'Leander's Fun-House of Doom,' so until we hit an _actual_ road and find some civilization I really don't see how I'm at fault for us not knowing where we are!"

"You have _got_ to be the-"

A laugh escaped my lips and Con stopped mid-insult. I brought my fist to my mouth to hide it, but the motion was automatic. I was probably more surprised than they were. I'd. . .I'd actually done it without meaning to. Sure, their arguing was entertaining, but it hadn't seemed amusing enough to. . .

It was quiet after my little outburst, but finally Sy, sounding wary, asked, "You okay there, Spark?"

"Do you find something funny?" Con asked coolly when I didn't reply. "Come, share with the rest of the class."

I think the realization that I _could_ laugh so easily is what made me cut loose and crack up. It felt nice, laughing again. It felt like forever since I'd laughed last-Leander hadn't exactly been a world-class comedian, y'know. I was pretty sure Con and Sy thought I was crazy, but right then I didn't care. I was laughing! I was just glad I _could_ laugh, and glad I wasn't feeling so shocked and coasty anymore.

Ah, the simple joy of laughter.

"Okay. I think she's lost it," Con said, and I could practically hear the eye-roll.

"N-no," I stuttered out, trying catch my breath back. I looked up and smiled, which seemed to shock them. "It's just that you guys argue like an old married couple. You sound like my grandparents, it's frickin' hilarious!"

Sy smiled back at me while Con just rolled his eyes.

_Nah,_ I thought to myself as I laughed some more. _I haven't lost it. I just got it back._

* * *

I hated not being able to do anything.

As much as we wanted to gear up and head out on a rescue mission for Spark, Sy, and Con, there wasn't a single freaking thing we could do about it. There was just no lead to where they could possibly be. Sure, that phone call that "Spark" had made to Con gave us _some_thing, but after Swift and Nudge traced it it only led to a trash can outside the Sydney Opera House. Blaze had said the guy had most likely used a burn phone just the once before tossing it out.

And Mom had talked to the security guys at the arena, but the _one_ camera that could have shown us what had happened to Spark had had its feed cut two minutes before we thought she'd been caught. How utterly clever of the kidnapper.

So now we were here. Split up into three vans, driving out to our next show. Personally, _I_ had been against carrying on like Spark was just on vacation, but the others had outvoted me. If we couldn't find Spark, the least we could do was our job for CSM, right? Plus, we had the anti-flock with us now, and they'll make up for Spark's absence, and blah, blah, blah.

I hated not being able to do anything.

The van came to a stop at a light and I glared out the window. It seemed like my position as leader of the flock was becoming more of a formality with each passing day. Pretty soon they'd all just be running around like crazy anarchists. Things used to be so _simple._ My word was law, and that was that.

Annoyed, I tried to push the whole mess out of my mind before it gave me a headache. To distract myself I inspected the cars in the lanes beside us. There was a dusty blue car right next to us that had a man inside, talking on his cell phone. Behind him was a faded red SUV filled with rowdy teenagers; their music was audible even though all the windows were up.

And in the next lane over, beyond the guy in the blue car, there was a sleek white Cadillac convertible that held three people. Two boys, one girl.

I went still. _N. . .No way. . ._

"Oh, God, turn that shit off," said the boy in the back, reaching his arm forward to touch the radio. He was denied by driver, who slapped his hand away. "Ow!"

"Hands off, jackass," the driver said, but not irritably. "My radio, only I touch it."

The girl in the passenger seat half-turned to look at the driver funny. "You can _not_ sit there and tell me you like country."

My breaths were coming in fast and shallow. I straightened up and leaned closer to the window, unable to believe my eyes. _No way. . ._

But yes way. Con flicked his head to get the hair out of his eyes before he reached for the radio and started fiddling with the dials. "Of course I don't," he said. "Nobody does."

"Then why flip a bitch about me changing it?" Sy demanded, leaning forward to prop his arms on the front seats. When he moved the sunlight glinted off his silvery hair, the glare almost hurting my eyes.

"It's my radio," Con replied, as if that were the only reason he needed. "They're my buttons. And I don't want you touching them."

Spark laughed from the passenger seat. "You're such a freak."

"No way," I breathed.

From beside me, Nudge noticed I had my nose practically pressed to the window and touched my arm. "Hey, uh, Max? Are you okay?" I felt her lean around me as she tried to get a look at what I was seeing; she gasped. "Oh, my God!"

Her cry caught the whole car's attention-the entire flock (the anti-flock and Sy's group were all in the other cars) all turned to look out the windows.

"Oh, no _way,_" Fang muttered. I turned momentarily to glance at him in the back seat, and he met my eyes with the same disbelieving expression.

"What is it?" Iggy asked, but then I rolled down the window more and their voices carried easier into the car.

"Oh, and since when is it _your_ car?" Spark asked of Con, leaning back against the car's door so she could face him. "Nobody ever said we were keeping it."

"Yeah, and even if we did, I should get it," Sy said. "You guys can fly, I'm the one who's stuck on the ground."

"I've been driving it most," Con argued. "And I called it."

"What?" Sy exclaimed. "You did no-"

"I call it!" Spark cried, raising her hand.

"What? No!" Con protested. "That's my move!"

"Mine now, sucka!" she taunted.

Sy laughed. "You should've seen that one comin', dude!"

"Damn it!"

"Con!"

I poked my head out the window to the car behind us, and there I saw Blaze leaning out her own window. She waved her arm and yelled again. "Con! Spark, Sy!"

Spark, already half-turned toward our lane, looked up first. At first it was just a glance, but then she did a double-take and her jaw dropped. Then Sy looked up, and finally Con.

Then the horns started blaring. The lights had switched green. _Of course._

Our van's driver started driving, and Con had to hit the gas as well. He couldn't get an opening to switch lanes, but that didn't stop Spark. She half stood up in her seat and shouted out at Blaze, "What are you guys doing here?"

"What are _you_ doing?" I called back, and Spark looked over at me in surprise. "You guys were gone!"

"Wha-well, yeah, we got kidnapped, but we got out!" she replied.

"Where are you guys going?" Sy shouted. "And how come Blaze and them are here?"

"What?" Con glanced over and back, scowling. "Blaze, what the fuck? I left so you wouldn't get involved!"

"What?" Blaze echoed. She flipped Con the finger and I heard laughter from the rest of the anti-flock's car. "Fuck that, douche bag, where do you get off thinking we don't _want_ to be involved?" she shouted. Con just rolled his eyes and ignored her.

"Where were you guys?" I asked, looking to Spark again. "Who kidnapped you, how'd you get out?"

Spark shook her head. "Well, Max, I'd tell ya, I really would, but I really don't think discussing this between our two speeding vehicles is the best idea we've ever tried!"

I instinctively pulled my head back as another car zipped between us, its horn blaring loudly as it went. "Yeah, I think you're right!"

"So where are ya headed?" Sy asked. "We'll talk there."

"Uh, just the same arena we had our first show," I answered. "Just fall behind and follow us."

"Ha! Dream on," Con said suddenly.

_Huh?_

"C'mon, Max, cut us some slack," Sy said with a grin. "We know how to get there from here."

"We could take a lap around Sydney and _still_ beat ya there," Con added.

And as he gunned the engine, Spark smirked, winked, and gave a little salute. "So see ya later, alligator! Don't keep us waiting for too long!"

Con and Sy were laughing as the car sped way ahead of us, and as Spark sat back down I saw her join in as well. And though I was a little peeved at her for not telling me anything _again,_ I was relieved, too. From what I could tell she was fine, and that was good enough for now.

So I leaned back in my seat, sighing that half-frustrated sigh that Spark was so talented at bringing out in me as I put a hand to my temple.

Yep.

Only Spark.

* * *

and so we draw closer to the end. . .


	36. Chapter 36

don't freak out.

but it's the second-to-last chapter.

disclaimer: don't own maximum ride.

* * *

_**36. so. now what?**_

"Seriously? How slow can a van _be?_" I groaned, sitting back on the hood of the car. Almost instantly it honked, making me jump up in surprise.

"Get your ass off my car," Con said irritably, and I turned around to glare at where he was sitting in the front seat, picking at a pre-ripped hole in his jeans. We'd made a quick stop to pick up some new clothes-there'd been cash in the glovebox, and our old clothes had started to, well, _reek_-and yet Max and them _still_ weren't here. It was getting kinda boring.

"I thought we went over this?" I said to Con, and he looked up. I smirked. "I called it, so it's mine. And I'll do whatever I damn well please with it." I sat back down on the hood and stuck my tongue out at him.

Con's eyes narrowed and he growled out, "_So_ nice to see you're feeling better."

I deflated some. "Oh, come on. You've. . .you've done what I did before. Didn't you. . .freak out?"

"Not a chance," he said lightly, going back to pick at his jeans.

I frowned. Unable to think of a retort, I crossed my arms and glared at the sidewalk in front of me.

All right. So maybe Con was different. Maybe he felt nothing when he shot someone. Perhaps he had no soul.

Or maybe he was just lying off his ass.

"Heads up." I looked up and barely got my hand up in time to catch a can of soda that was flying my way. Then I ducked so a second can could sail unhindered at Con.

Cracking open his own drink, Sy walked around and leaned against the passenger side door, saying, "Haven't destroyed each other yet, I see."

"Not yet," Con replied. Then he frowned and set down his soda in the cupholder. "I don't like Sprite."

"Then don't drink it," Sy suggested. Con glared at him, but it went unnoticed.

"Where'd you even get this?" I asked, inspecting the Pepsi in my hand before glancing at Sy; he shrugged.

"When I went inside to check the time of the show I saw a room set up for the kids," he explained. "Nobody was there, so I took some stuff. They should really guard their food better."

I snickered. "You're such a thief."

"One of the many things you like about me, right?" he asked, glancing back at me with a grin.

"Actually, I find it one of the many things I _dislike_ about you," Con interjected. Sy rolled his eyes. "Because if you're going to steal pop, you might as well steal the good kind."

"I did steal the good kind." Sy brandished his Dr. Pepper and added, "I just didn't give it to you."

Con paused for a second, then leaned across the car and smacked the can out of Sy's hand. It bounced to the ground, spraying carbonated beverage over everything knee-height or lower. I did my best to stifle the laughter that automatically bubbled up in my chest as Con sat back in his seat with a funny little look of satisfaction on his face.

Sy let out an irritable breath and put his hand to his head. "Think it's a bad idea to kill a guy with so many witnesses around?"

"Maybe," I chuckled. "Better wait 'till he's wandering down some random alleyway at midnight."

"Noted."

"Oh, come on, what's the big deal, Sy?" Con said, rolling his eyes. With a smirk, he picked up the Sprite that was sitting in the cupholder. "You can have mine."

"Drop dead," Sy started to say, but then a car's horn cut him off. I glanced at Con, but his hands hadn't moved. So we all looked around and watched as three similar black creeper-vans pulled up to the front entrance of the arena. They'd barely stopped when their doors burst open and unleashed eighteen monsters that were probably hyped up on too much relief and sugar.

The attack-I mean, reunion-lasted for about ten happy, confused minutes before some CSM people came out to rush us inside to prep for our air/water show. (Apparently we were running late. Darn those vans. . .) Multiple times my name was called so it could be made sure I was still there; for some _crazy_ reason they all wanted to make sure I stayed with them as we moved from place to place. Like I was just gonna go off and disappear! Psh! How possible was _that?_

Oh, sarcasm. How I missed you so. . .

Over breakfast in the break-room place they'd set up for us, I learned that it had only been three days we'd been gone. And I was very surprised at that fact. Only three days? It had felt like so much longer. But I guess I hadn't exactly had a normal sense of time since Leander had kidnapped us-I'd been passed out for a while, and then there was all the psychological shit he pulled on me that made me just stare off into space for who knew how long. So maybe it made sense, three days. A little over two days with Leander, and the rest of the third day (plus a lot of last night) driving back here to Sydney.

It was a couple minutes before the show was due to start that Max asked the million-dollar question.

"So who exactly kidnapped you, Spark?"

I instantly tensed up, my hand jerking so that the aluminum can I was just about to recycle missed the bin entirely. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Con and Sy look at each other, exchanging wary expressions.

"Spark?" Max said my name again and stepped to my side in concern. "Are you okay?"

I pondered my possible answers. If I said I was fine, she'd probably think I was lying to her and get mad about it. And if I said I wasn't, she'd get all flustered and try to comfort me. Neither option sounded very attractive, so I went for a compromise.

"I. . .don't exactly know yet," I told her, carefully avoiding all eye contact by picking up the trash I'd dropped. "I just need some time to adjust."

I could sense that her eyes were narrowed at that (so she got mad anyway. Shocker), but I lucked out and didn't have to answer any more questions 'cuz Max's mom came to get us for our part in the show. I let out a mental sigh of relief, but didn't get to relax for long-Max sent me a look that said, "We'll finish this later."

As the rest of the kids filed out, Con, Sy, and I all hung back.

"What are you going to tell her?" Con asked casually, eyes fixed on the pen he was spinning in his fingers.

"I know it's a crazy idea, but I thought I might tell her the truth," I replied. He glanced at me and I rolled my eyes. "What other choice do I have? It's like she has a sixth sense, she'll know if I'm lying or holding back."

"Not if you come up with something before she asks again," Sy pointed out. I looked at him and he shrugged. "This whole thing was messed up, and I really don't think any of us want to re-live it by talking about it. We'll back you up if you want to lie."

Con scoffed at that, but I ignored him. "Thanks, but I really don't see a reason why I _should_ lie."

"Doesn't mean you have to tell the whole truth," Con reminded me.

I nodded. "I know."

"What are you guys doing?"

We all looked up and saw Blaze sticking her head back into the room. A quick glance behind her showed Iggy was there, too, which I thought was a little strange.

Both Sy and Con looked at me to answer her, so I raised an eyebrow and put my hands on my hips. "We're rounding up elves and baby unicorns for the midget rodeo," I told her. "What's it look like we're doing?"

Blaze scowled at me while Iggy laughed in the background. On either side of me, Sy chuckled and even Con let out a noise that may have been a snicker.

"You _do_ realize you three only just got back from a kidnapping," she said flatly. "Everybody's freaking out."

"Yeah, so you should come on before Max blows a gasket," Iggy interjected. The door opened a little more as Blaze stepped aside to let him talk to us. "She's already mad Blaze and them are flying with us, so she's not really the happiest little ray of sunshine right now."

"Since when are we flying with you?" Con demanded, crossing his arms. "We're not even supposed to be here right now."

"Well, because of _your_ little abandonment stunt, we're here anyway," Blaze said snippily. "And it's not like we're doing anything else. Look, all we have to do is fly around and get paid to do it, so suck it up and come on." She abruptly turned and started stalking away, Iggy close on her heels.

"Huh," Sy said, scratching his head. "I didn't know Blaze wore the pants in the family."

Con glared at him. "Shut up."

I started to laugh a little, but once Con tried to turn that glare on me I quickly stopped and cleared my throat. "Well. Guess we better go. Wouldn't want to deprive Max of the joy of yelling at me."

"Can't have that," Sy agreed, taking my hand and leading the way. For a second Con didn't look as if he'd come along, but before we got too far I reached out and nudged him. Reluctantly, he followed.

After that, it was a blur. Sy and the fish kids swam around in a giant tank, and me and the flock and Con and the anti-flock all flew around in the sky (minus the colorful smoke trails-there weren't enough for all twelve of us), and then Max's mom gave her environmental awareness speech and that was that. We got to rest up in the break room for a few hours before our second show, and then we piled into the vans and drove back to the hotel.

Well, most of us piled into the vans. Con refused to abandon "his" white Cadillac, so me, Sy, Iggy, and Blaze all joined him in that.

And after Gazzy asked to go to the hotel arcade, Dr. Martinez escorted the dozen younger kids downstairs and left the rest of us to talk in the room. And by "talk," I mean me, Con, and Sy relating the tale of our kidnapping to Max, Fang, Iggy, Blaze, Wave, and Kyla.

Don't you just _love_ story-time? I do. Especially when the story is about me and my ventures to the edge of my sanity.

"It sucked," I said bluntly. "He got me with a tranquilizer as I was heading to the bathroom, and when I woke up I was. . .there."

"Where's there?" Max asked.

I shook my head. "No idea. Some weird house out in the middle of nowhere."

"Everything was white," Con said. "Walls, ceiling, floor. Everything."

"Even he was white," Sy added.

"Who's he?" Blaze asked.

"Leander," I said quietly.

I told the rest of the story (with occasional input from Sy and Con) while staring at my hands, which were constantly in motion. Clasped together, lacing and un-lacing my fingers, drumming my fingertips against each other. And since I was looking at that, I didn't see anybody's reactions to the story.

I was surprised at how easy it was to talk about it. I only had trouble talking about the things he'd made me see, and when I. . .well, you know.

I took a deep breath and finished with, "Then we jacked his car and left. Drove most of yesterday and last night, and then met up with you guys." I felt myself smirk and added, "And since nobody's going to come looking for it, I think Con's gonna want to keep the car."

I waited for him to interject, but strangely he was quiet. I glanced over at him and was startled to find his elbow propped on the armrest of the couch, his head in his hand, and his eyes closed. He'd fallen asleep. How adorable.

"Guess he's really tired," Max said, lowering her voice so as not to wake him.

"I don't see why," said Iggy. "Judging from the story it didn't sound like he'd been put through the ringer much."

"The way we were imprisoned didn't allow for much comfort," Sy told him. "The first sleep we got was last night, and that was only for a few hours in the car."

"I was passed out for a while after I got shot," I said. "But other than that I didn't really sleep, either. I think we're all just fried."

"Shh," Blaze shushed me. "He's pissy when people wake him up."

"I'm pissy when people talk about me like I can't hear them," Con said crossly. We all looked at him in semi-guilt, but he was still in the same position as he'd been in before. "I'm right here, you know."

"Whups. Sorry, Sleepin' Beauty," I said, faking sweetness.

"I _wasn't asleep,_" he snapped, but judging from the way he rubbed his eyes I suspected he was lying. "However, I _am_ about to pass out, so if someone could direct me to a free bed I'd be less 'pissy.' "

"Well, Fang and Iggy had their own room, so I guess you and Sy will just have to share with them," Max said. Turning to me, she added, "And Spark, you can share with Blaze."

"I'd forgotten what true bliss felt like," I said thoughtfully.

"Ha, ha," Blaze sneered. "But just for your information, there's a free bed. We're not sharing the same one."

"Oh." I blinked, then smiled. "Sweet. Good job on scoring a room for yourself," I said, holding out my fist. Blaze hesitated, then leaned forward to bump her knuckles against mine.

"Now, let's all just wait a second," Wave said suddenly. Everyone turned to look at her and the smile curling over her lips. "_Since_ the boy to girl ratio is more evened out. . ."

Max groaned loudly. "Not this again."

"Not what again?" I asked.

"For the last time, _no,_" Blaze said firmly.

"What?" Wave blinked her eyes innocently. "I'm just trying to make things more fun."

"What are we talking about?" Sy asked slowly.

"Well, now that you guys are back, there are five girls and four boys," Wave explained. "Excluding Max because she's a prude-"

I couldn't help but laugh as Max's jaw dropped indignantly. _"Prude?"_

"-that means we can go boy-girl," Wave went on.

"Exactly," Kyla added, smirking. "So it'll be Wave and Fang, me and Iggy, Con and Blaze and Spark and Sy. There. Everyone's happy."

Con, Sy and I all glanced at each other in confusion; the rest of them just rolled their eyes and grumbled incoherent things. I assumed this had been an ongoing battle, and couldn't help but wonder why Kyla and Wave were so set on hooking up with the bird boys. Maybe since Sy had been their only guy growing up, and now he was taken? I dunno.

"This isn't happening, guys," Fang said calmly. "Dr. M would flip."

"Oh, come on," Kyla whined. "It's just to sleep."

Max let out a humorless laugh. "Yeah, right."

"Unless you don't _want_ to sleep, that is," Wave said, throwing a wink at Fang. I snickered. As idiotic as this conversation was, it was rather entertaining.

"Look, ladies, as much as I'd love to have you, I think the majority outvotes us," Iggy said, beginning to play along. Both Wave and Kyla sat back, crossing their arms and pouting comically. I chuckled again. "Our potential love will have to wait until another time."

"Yeah, like until _after_ the majority falls asleep," Blaze said. The comment earned her some looks and she just stared back. "What? You can't stop what you don't know is happening."

"She's come to the dark side," Kyla stage-whispered.

"I haven't sided with you on this," Blaze snapped at her. "I'm just stating the obvious. After everyone's asleep, you can do whatever the hell you want."

"So long as you're quiet," Iggy added. Blaze's head whipped around so she could glare at him, but of course he couldn't see it.

Judging from the look on Con's face, I guessed he, too, was starting to suspect something. Blaze and Iggy sure were acting weird. . .

* * *

It was oh, I don't know, perhaps ten-thirty when I was so rudely awoken by the answer to my earlier suspicion.

By the time the sleeping arrangement argument had ended, it was only about seven o' clock. A little after that, Dr. M brought the kids back from the hotel arcade and things started winding down. It'd been a big day. Everyone was out before eight.

Well, _almost_ everybody.

Blaze had directed me to our room before leaving, claiming jet-lag was going to keep her up for a while. I'd assumed she'd gone to watch TV or something, but somehow I now doubted that was the case.

Unfortunately I'd chosen the bed closest to the door, so it was _my_ bed that they fell on in their blind stumblings. The door had already woken me up, but due to what happened next I knew I wouldn't be able to fall back asleep. Not there, at least.

"What the. . .?" I lifted my head and dragged my hand across my eyes. I stared for a second, then repeated the motion.

But the sight I didn't think I'd really seen was still there.

Blaze.

And Iggy.

Together.

. . .Kissing.

Well, _kissing_ is actually kind of an understatement. It was more than that.

And it almost made my head explode.

"If you want to do that, do it somewhere else!" I snapped, turning around and aiming to kick them out of my bed. "I'm trying to sleep here!"

But nooo, they weren't about to let me win at that, now were they? Of course not! So before I could kick them Blaze reached out and scared me away by brandishing fire in my face.

"Dah!" I jerked away from the flames and hit the floor hard; when I tried to get up I cracked my head on the edge of the bedside table. Just wasn't my night, was it?

"Ah-ha-hooooww," I moaned, cradling the back of my head. I sat up fully and glared over at the two dirty little deviants, but they. . .weren't exactly paying any attention to me. Picking myself up, I angrily kicked the bed. "You guys are bitches and I hate you!"

"Just leave," Blaze managed to reply, just before Iggy. . .caught her attention again.

"Ugh." There was movement from the other bed and a small black shape jumped to the floor, heading for the exit. As should be obvious, Total had gone for the one room whose comfortable beds weren't completely overrun with children. "Like I'll be able to sleep through _that._"

"Yeah, let's find somewhere else," I muttered, following the Scottie out of the bedroom. "We can take revenge by exposing them in the morning."

Total snorted. "Let's hope they don't do anything _too_ naughty."

I choked back a laugh-we were just passing the room Max and her mom were in, too.

"And since the Bible is the only thing this hotel stores in any of its drawers," he went on, "I think we can rest easy knowing the word of God may serve as _some_ form of protection."

I'm not entirely sure what he meant by that, but the word "protection" set me off. I clapped a hand to my mouth and stood, practically motionless, in the center of the suite and struggled to stifle the sudden onslaught of hysterical giggles for nearly five whole minutes.

I was more tired than I'd thought.

Once I'd calmed down, I let out an uneven breath and completed the journey to my intended destination. I paused at the door and listened within: silence.

"Wait, don't tell me you're gonna do it too," Total said, looking up at me accusingly. I scowled.

"If Iggy takes my room, then I take his," I said. "It's just a trade, you dirty-minded little dog."

"I don't have a dirty mind," he said defensively. "I'm just aware that teenagers aren't children and act as such."

I snorted. "Sure." Then, with careful silence, I turned the knob on the door and pushed it open. It creaked and I froze, waiting for someone to wake up, but no one did. I let out a tiny sigh before creeping as quietly as I could possibly creep over to the bed furthest from the door. I crouched down at the head of the bed while Total hopped up to the other one. I pulled back a section of covers and poked at the exposed shoulder.

"Sy." He didn't move, so I poked again. "Sy, wake up." Another non-response, another poke. "Syyy-yyyy."

At least that time he stirred, but he still didn't wake up. So, annoyed by now, I pinched him and whisper-yelled his name. "SY!"

He jerked and swore. "Ow!"

"Sh!"

I waited as Sy blearily looked at me and tried to see who I was. When he finally got it, he sounded confused. "Spark? What are you doing here, what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," I said, keeping quiet so as not to wake Con and Fang. "But Blaze and Iggy kicked me out and you're the only one with a free side. Can I sleep here?"

"What? What d'you mean, Blaze and Iggy?"

"I don't know, maybe they hit the mini-bar or something," I said, and he smiled. "But they wanted to be _alone_ so they kicked me out. Can I sleep here?" I held my hands under my chin. "Pleeeaaase?"

He stared at me for a second, and I took the chance to stick out my lip and make my eyes all big and pleading. Sy laughed once before turning back over, saying, "Yeah, fine. Whatever."

"Yay." I poked him in the side and he twitched. "Now move over."

"What? No, I'm already warm here," he said. "Go to the other side. And quit poking me, it tickles."

I grinned and (of course) poked him again. Because really. You don't _tell_ people when it tickles. That's like an invitation to future tickle attacks. Open season on the ticklish. "Come on, don't be a baby. Move."

"Go to the other side."

Another rejection, another poke. "Please?"

He didn't reply, probably deciding he'd just ignore me until I gave up.

And I thought he knew me.

I smirked before I attacked. I poked my fingers at Sy's sides, both of them, fending off his hands as he tried to bat me away. But years of sneak-attacking my human friends who were similarly ticklish had me winning this battle: I was like a poking ninja. Sy started to shake with laughter, each poke making him jerk further away towards the other side of the bed.

"No, Spark, stop!" he protested. "Stop it, stop, come on, quit it!"

"Pipe down!" Total suddenly snapped, and we both froze. "I'm not moving again, so shut up and go to sleep."

Sy and I both laughed softly, and I crawled into the empty space on the bed. Sy just groaned in defeat and shifted all the way over.

"Mwa-ha," I whispered, shutting my eyes and huddling into the warmth from where Sy had been lying. "Victory is mine."

"You're impossible," Sy said back, and then all of a sudden the pillow beneath my head vanished. "And I'm taking my pillow."

I tried to keep my laugh quiet as I grabbed the pillow from the other side. "Fair enough."

All right. Now, I may not have been on Kyla and Wave's side earlier, but they'd had a point. It _was_ just a bed. And contrary to what _they_ would have tried, _we_ were just going to sleep. And it's not like Sy was a stranger. He was my friend.

Besides, I was _not_ going to sleep on a couch if there was a Spark-sized hunk of mattress lying around. If Con or Fang had been the one with a free side, I probably would've done the same thing.

". . .Hey."

I opened my eyes and looked up. Sy'd propped himself up on his elbow and was staring at me; but he wasn't looking at my eyes, and he had a weird look on his face. I followed his gaze and looked down.

And before you get any ideas, grow up. He's not perverted. He was looking at my _necklace,_ which had fallen out of my shirt in the skirmish. I glanced at it, then back at Sy. "What?"

"It's different again," he said, frowning a little. He reached forward and touched the little teardrop pendant. "Back at Leander's, it was a scratched-up diamond. But this one's the original."

". . .Oh," I said. "Right. About that."

He looked at me expectantly, and I explained the whole thing with Colette. How she'd given it to me, then switched it for a diamond so I could cut through my chain. And how, when we'd been getting our new clothes earlier that day, I'd taken the diamond one off and put back on the aquamarine.

I didn't mention that I'd kept the diamond one anyway, sort of in memory of Colette, but he didn't ask, so the subject dropped.

"Why'd she help you?" Sy asked, leaning his head on his hand. "She worked with him to kidnap us."

I avoided his gaze. "I think she just felt sorry for me. Leander probably tricked her into coming with him, and she didn't want him to hurt another girl."

"Oh." He was quiet for a second, then said, "Did you know he shot her?"

I nodded, my eyes burning. "I was there. He was taking me to his room, then just stopped, opened her door, and shot her."

Sy's hand slid over and covered mine. "I tried to save her. Sorry."

"It's fine." I hurriedly dragged my hand across my eyes. "It's over now. Let's not talk about it. Like, ever again."

"All right." It got quiet again, and I thought he'd drifted off, but then he asked, "Did Blaze and Iggy _really_ kick you out?"

I scoffed. "No," I said, my voice heavy with sarcasm. "Actually I paid Iggy to not sleep here. I couldn't resist you. Hold me!"

I just barely got through that with a straight face, and Sy started cracking up halfway through. I think Total had fallen asleep, because he didn't tell us to shut up, but then all of a sudden Con groaned from the other bed. And that in itself would have been funny enough, but then he also snapped, "Oh, my God, shut _up!_"

I stifled a snicker as Sy stage-whispered, "Sorry."

Con started grumbling incoherently (probably insulting us under his breath), then cursed colorfully when Fang sat up a little and looked over to our bed. "What's going on?" I felt his eyes on me, so I turned over and waved. ". . .Why's Spark in here?"

"Why's it _matter?_" Con cried exasperatedly. He angrily pulled the blanket over his head; his next sentence came out slightly muffled. "I'm trying to _sleep,_ God damn it!"

"Don't you have your own room?" Fang asked over the sound of Con's irritated moan.

"Well, yeah, but Blaze and Iggy kicked me out of it," I explained.

Even Con surfaced long enough to stare at me. In unison with Fang, he said, _"What?"_

I smiled and repeated, "Blaze and Iggy kicked me out."

"Wait, wait." Con shifted so he could really stare at me; I raised an eyebrow expectantly. "_Blaze_ and _Iggy?_" I nodded. "You're not serious."

"Why else would I be here?" I demanded. "I was perfectly fine in my own bed until the two of them came in all over each other and almost literally kicked me out."

"You're not serious," Fang said, echoing Con.

"I think the current theory is they broke into the mini-bar," Sy said helpfully.

"Despite how it happened, it happened." Total said suddenly. Both Con and Fang looked down, noticing the Scottie in their bed for the first time. "And while _they_ decided to get it on, _we_ decided to come _here,_ where it _used_ to be _quiet._"

_"Get it on?"_ Fang said.

"Are you fuckin' kidding me?" Con said, laughing.

"Everyone was fully clothed when we left," I said quickly. Then I smiled. "But, you know, Iggy's. . .uh. . ."

"Horny?" Con finished.

The ensuing laughter was so loud that someone from the next room woke up and felt the need to chuck something at the wall.

"Shut _up!_"

But it was late, and we were tired, so we kept laughing. Albeit slightly quieter.

* * *

i just couldn't resist the whole cliche hotel scenario thing where the boy and the girl have to sleep in the same bed X) it allowed for iggy/blaze to happen, and it just seemed like something spark would do.


	37. Chapter 37

it was so hard to write this. i think i kept distracting myself on purpose so it wouldn't have to end :( and when i finished, i said, _yay!_ then, _ah!_ because while i'm glad i've beat the odds and actually finished a story, i'm also sad to see it go. it took me a while to actually get up the guts to post it and officially end it.

but, as all things must, it has. ended, that is.

here's the final chapter. which probably should have been two chapters due to its immense length, but whatever.

enjoy.

disclaimer: don't own maximum ride.

* * *

_**epilogue: you're gonna go far kid**_

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

It's like the beeping kept time to my thoughts. _I. Hate. Alarms. I. Hate. Alarms._

With a groan I turned over, my arm reaching out to silence the infernal device that dared disturb my peace. But before I could take satisfaction in chucking the stupid thing at the wall, there was a clatter and the beeping stopped. I blearily opened my eyes and saw Con drop his head back down on his pillow, arm hanging down over the side of the bed, the clock radio lying in a few pieces on the floor.

I was so glad he wasn't a morning person. See, 'cuz if Max or Blaze had been in the room, they would have-

"Did you just break the clock?" Fang asked tiredly as he sat upright. He rubbed his eyes, yawned, and flipped back the covers so he could get up out of bed.

_Oh, yeah,_ I thought as I huddled down into the warmth of my bed. _Fang's just like Max. Used to having to get up early and go right away._

Con made no movement to follow Fang's example-instead, he grabbed the blanket and yanked it up over his head. I shut my eyes and stifled a snicker.

"It woke. Me up," he said carefully. His voice was slightly muffled, but he still came off sounding as if he were in a fouler mood than I'd ever been in in the morning. "And I'd advise you all to not repeat its crime."

"Well, _you_ seem to be in a happy mood." I heard Total's collar-tags jingle slightly as he got up. They jingled again and something bounced down on the bed near my feet-the Scottie had migrated to the bed _not_ glooming under the black cloud of Con's grumpiness.

"Technically you're already awake," I mumbled at Con. "To repeat the crime we'd have to wait for you to fall asleep again."

"You're lucky I can't reach you right now."

"Awake for thirty seconds and already he's threatening people," said Sy, and I shifted so I could look over at him. And I couldn't help but smile-his head was still buried in his pillow and his hair was falling all over his face. He looked so sleepy and relaxed that if he hadn't gone on speaking I could've thought he was still out. ('Case you hadn't noticed, I'm a sucker for when boys fall asleep. It's like they suddenly become that much cuter.) "He must've been a joy to grow up with."

There was a quick rustle and all of a sudden a pillow crashed down on our bed. It skimmed over my head and hit mostly empty space, but the message was still clear.

"Shut. Up," Con growled. "And let. Me sleep."

"Guys, get up," Fang said, sounding slightly annoyed. I heard him open the door. "We have to leave by eight."

And then he left.

Silly, silly Fang. . .

"Well, if you guys aren't, then I'm not," Total said frankly. He snuggled down into the cushy folds of the sheets that had been kicked down to the end of the bed at some point during the night.

Sy pushed himself up and grabbed the pillow Con had thrown at us. In one well-aimed toss, the pillow flew across the room and smacked into the door, pushing it closed with a _snap!_ I watched the pillow slide to the floor and smirked: when the door opened again, it would catch on the pillow and give us a little extra time. Yay for delaying the start to the day.

"He'll get mad at that, but whatever," Sy said, lying back down.

"It doesn't matter what he'll get mad at," Crabby McCrab-Ass snapped from the other bed. "Just shut up and let me sleep."

I remember chuckling, but then I drifted off again. I don't know how long the four of us managed to steal the z's, but it seemed like only a couple seconds before Gazzy, Janey, Shadow, and Angel were dive-bombing the two beds like they'd been told we were hiding candy there.

"WAKE UP!"

Total yelped and scampered before he was crushed. I cursed as the force of Gazzy and Janey's attack made me bounce. I winced as Gazzy landed straight on my knees, and heard Sy's breath leave him in a whoosh as Janey jumped on his stomach. Off to my left, Shadow and Angel were laughing hysterically while Con cussed them out.

"Max and Fang told us to wake you up," Gazzy told me brightly, grinning as he sat on my ankles. I groaned and sat up, rubbing my eyes.

"How long's it been?" I asked groggily. The alarm had gone off at six-thirty or so (I think), and Fang had said we needed to leave by eight, so it had to've been at least-

"Fang woke up ten minutes ago," Janey said, then shrieked in laughter as Sy tickled her until she rolled off him.

"What? That means it's not even seven!" Con snarled. He angrily yanked on the covers, the sudden motion tipping Shadow and Angel from the edge of the bed and onto the floor. They started to laugh again. Obviously pissed beyond belief, Con lay back down on his bed, once again trying to hide beneath the shelter of his blankie as he mumbled swear words.

What a bratty little cranky-pants. It was one of the funniest things I'd ever seen.

"Hey, kiddies, I think we should let the princess have his nappy-time now," I said to everybody else in the room. I wiggled my feet and Gazzy got off; I may have been tired, but I wanted to avoid another attack. So I rolled out of bed and stood up, quickly darting out of Con's reach so he couldn't smack me for calling him "princess." I herded the kids out of the room, Sy right on my heels.

"Morning, sleepy-heads," Kyla said cheerfully as we followed the kids to where everyone else was, plopped down randomly around wherever there was table-space to eat on. I snagged a muffin from a box by Blaze and sat down in an empty chair. Sy leaned on the arm-rest and almost immediately tried to steal some of my muffin. I batted his hand away playfully.

"Restful night?" Wave asked, deceptively innocent. Blaze and Iggy snickered. Jerks.

"Grow up," Sy said, rolling his eyes. "All we did was sleep."

"I'll bet," Blaze said with a smirk.

"Okay, we didn't do anything, and it's not like I would have wanted to anyway," I began.

"Ouch," Iggy laughed.

"I didn't _mean_ it like _that,_ you dirtbag," I snapped. "I wouldn't have wanted to because I was just sickened by the display of affection shown by _you two_ last night!"

Heads whipped around and questions were asked as Iggy shut up and turned bright red. It wasn't too hard to figure he'd been with Blaze-after all, _I'd_ been the one in the room _he_ was supposed to have been sleeping in. While he spluttered and tried to deflect the accusations, Blaze threw a small bottle of juice at me in fury. I wasn't quick enough to catch or dodge it fully, so it ended up slamming into my shoulder and bouncing off Sy's leg, nearly landing on where Total was curled up near my feet. He irritably stomped off to sit with Aqua and Arthur, who were quietly playing a Nintendo DS a little ways apart from the rest of the group. I wondered idly where they'd gotten it. And what game they were playing.

"Ow! Geez!" I said exasperatedly, rubbing my shoulder. "Overreact, much." I glanced over at the bottle and frowned. "Ew. I don't even like orange juice."

"I call it." Sy bent down to pick it up and, before I could react, stole my muffin and tore off a huge piece.

"Damn you!" I cried, snatching it back. He just laughed and drank his orange juice. I stuck out my tongue at him before picking at what was left of my muffin.

"Couldn't keep your mouth shut?" Blaze hissed, and I looked up to see silver-speckled eyes.

"Oh." Well, now I felt a little bad. But why would she even start with Iggy if she was going to get mad for people knowing? "Well, I highly doubt you could've kept it secret for long. Mind-reader over here." I pointed at where Angel was sitting at the coffee table, attacking what looked like a four-tall stack of Belgian waffles. Across from her, Shadow had five. Fatties. "Plus, if you really didn't want anybody to know you would've sent Iggy to switch with me again before anybody woke up."

"And threatened the rest of us into silence," Sy added.

"Or they could have stayed out here and not bothered us in the first place," Total grumbled from Arthur's lap.

"So are you guys going to be together now?" Gazzy asked, looking at Iggy. "Like Max and Fang?"

"Can it," Blaze snapped; Iggy just looked away and didn't say anything.

"Hey, let's lay off them," Fang said suddenly. Then he smirked. "From what Spark said it sounds like they did plenty of laying on each other last night."

Some of the people who'd been drinking something literally spat it out. Then the entire room, all twenty of us, cracked up so hard some of us cried and got hiccups. It was like that time I'd gotten a whiff of laughing gas-only this time, it was like _everybody_ had breathed it in. All the while Iggy and Blaze just sat there in discomfort, clearly embarrassed. Aw. Sure missed the days when I could laugh at someone else's expense.

All of a sudden something hit the bedroom door so hard it shuddered; we all jumped and personally I had to stifle more laughter. Judging from the sound (and the limited resources at his disposal), I guessed Con had thrown a shoe.

"Hey, wait a second," Nudge said, glancing around. "Is Con still in your guys' room?"

"Let me guess, still sleeping," Blaze said in a deadpan. I nodded (to answer both questions) and Blaze just rolled her eyes. "Of course."

"What do you mean _of course?_" Max asked.

"Con hates mornings," Avi supplied. "With a fiery burning passion. He thinks they should burn in a hole and die."

"As they should," I said sagely.

"So he always does this," Fang stated, ignoring my comment.

"Uh, yeah," Blaze said in a _duh_ sort of tone. "I mean, sure, when we're on a mission he won't put up a fight, but whenever he's in a real bed, like in a hotel or at home?" She shook her head. "He's like Satan incarnate before eleven."

Max frowned. "Well, whether he's Lucifer or not, we're leaving by eight."

"Then I suggest letting him sleep till seven-fifty." She gave me a look and I raised my hands in a shrug. "What? Works for me before school. Ten minutes before you leave allows for maximum rest, sufficient get-ready time, and minimal time for crankiness."

"_Or_ we could wake him up _now,_ and see how pissed off he can really get," Kyla suggested.

"Let's do it!" Wave said ecstatically, smiling widely. "I love it when he gets angry!"

"I suggest a distance attack," Blaze said. "Whatever's within his reach is a zone of terror. Practically busted my kneecaps the day I tried to wake him up at five."

"Well that's because five is unreasonable," I told her in the tone I use when explaining something to a small child. "Next time wait 'till five-oh-three."

"Yeah, because an extra three minutes will transform him from devil to angel," she retorted, rolling her eyes.

"Uh, yeah," I said. I gestured to myself. "Look what ten minutes did for me. I could've killed you all if you'd made me get up right away. But since you didn't, I'm a perfect ray of sunshine." Then I beamed brightly, as if that proved my sunshine-ness.

Sy half-laughed and elbowed me lightly. "Well, judging from earlier, I think Con needs more than just ten minutes."

"Exactly, which is why we're letting him sleep in. And if _he_ doesn't have to get up until seven-fifty, then _I_ shouldn't have to, either," I pointed out. Looking at Max, I asked, "Why the freak are we up this early if we're not leaving until eight?"

"Well, everyone needs to clean up and get dressed," she told me. "There are only two showers, so-"

"But I'm already clean," I interrupted. "I showered last night. And it only takes me five minutes to get dressed."

"Fine," she said tightly, looking irritated. "Just go back to bed, then."

I smirked. "Well, I would, but I think Con may kill me for disturbing his rest. And I like my head where it is, thanks."

"Then why are you arguing?" she demanded.

"To annoy you," I said simply. "You _did_ wake me up, after all."

Some of the others laughed, but Max just groaned.

* * *

There are certain perks to being somewhat famous.

I mean, come on. Max and the flock had been on the map for about a year or so now. The shows had been excellent turnouts, and it was only our first city. The income had been _so_ great, in fact, that we'd been able to rent a small plane just for ourselves. We'd previously would've had to ride through normal channels, but there were more of us now. Seven of Max's flock, plus Total, plus Con and the anti-flock, plus Sy and the fish-kids all added up to twenty-two bodies that needed transportation. And that called for some alterations to the plan.

And thus, our comfy lil' hybrid-mobile, a cozy little aircraft that could seat all of us without much trouble. Thirty-six seats left more than a few empty ones scattered about, so most of us were comfortable. Some of us older kids managed to claim the back while the youngsters scattered about near the front. The empty seats in-between created a sort of barrier, one that lent each group a sort of privacy.

Which was just so great, y'know, 'cuz it seemed as though some people wanted to discuss big-picture stuff. And who would the little kids be if they wanted to listen to that?

"Is it too late to change seats?" I grumbled, watching Max and Fang suspiciously. They were talking, all right, and from the serious look on Max's face I assumed it would be about what we were gonna do once this CSM thing ended. Oh, why must we always have a plan?

"Why, what's wrong?" Sy stopped looking out the window and glanced at me.

"I detest talk of the future," I said, still watching them. At some point they were going to try to rope the rest of us into it. Try to make us have input. I just knew it-it was like high school all over again, when they call you to the counselor's to talk about college. It's like, hello, I'm fifteen! I don't have a clue what I want to do! So leave me alone! But no one ever did. . .

"_I_ detest talking. Period," Con growled. He'd claimed the two seats across the aisle from me and Sy, still in a horrid mood from being woken up early. I rolled my eyes and glanced over at him, but he was just moodily glaring at the ceiling, his head leaned back against his own window. "So stop it."

"Okay, it was funny at first, but now it's just annoying," I told him. "You're awake, you're dressed, and you're not getting back to bed, so get over yourself and just quit being a crab-ass."

"Your mom," he mumbled, shutting his eyes and yanking his jacket's hood up over his head. He didn't get much chance to rest, however, because Blaze all of a sudden stood up and leaned over his seat so she could tap Max on the head. Max half-stood up and turned.

"So what exactly happens when this whole Australia tour ends?" Blaze asked. Con cursed explosively at being disturbed, but Blaze didn't even look down. "We all just pack up and go home, or what?"

"I think we face the problem of not having homes to go _to,_" Max replied, frowning a little.

Blaze made a face. "True."

"Spark's got a home," Iggy pointed out, and everyone listening in on the conversation looked at me.

I shifted. Yeah, I'd said before that I wanted to go home at some point, but now? Not so sure. I mean, banking on what Leander had showed me that final time, Dad was so pissed at me that he was willing to badmouth me to the rest of the family. Mom was probably convinced that I hated them all and was never coming back. And Jeremy? My brother? Yeah, hearing what Dad said had made him _cry._ And he's the toughest thirteen-year-old human boy I know. I could only hold on to the dearest hope that Kenny still believed in me. It was very rarely that she ever trusted our parents, so maybe she could guess that Dad was twisting the truth out of spite.

"I don't think it'd be the greatest idea to go back there," I said uncomfortably, carefully avoiding everybody's eyes. "Not yet. Maybe Chicago, though. We could check up on my cousins and Taj."

I'm not so sure who all I meant by that "we," but ah well. I was almost ninety percent sure that no matter what they heard from dear old Uncle Phil, Cody and Beck would know that I was coming back. We had epic plans, after all. And I'd promised them a story.

"Yeah, and have us all join a gang and turn delinquent," Max said sarcastically. I blinked and returned to the conversation.

"We're _already_ delinquents," Iggy said.

"And I'm _already_ in a gang," I added. "It's not so bad, Max. Sure, there's the occasional bank robbery and homicide here and there, but we get cake on alternate Thursdays."

Max rolled her eyes, but was smiling as she did so. She glanced at Fang for a second, and he shrugged a shoulder. She then said, "We'll probably end up hanging out in Arizona for a bit. You know, crash at Mom's while we figure out what we're gonna do."

"What is that going to entail, exactly?" I started to ask, but then all of a sudden Kyla, sitting with Wave in the pair of seats in front of me and Sy, interrupted.

"You know, if you guys wanted to live on your own, you could probably just stay at our place," she said.

"Your place?" Max echoed, her eyebrow rising.

"Uh-huh," Wave said. She got up and twisted around so she could more easily participate in the conversation. "We don't know what happened to all the others, but I doubt they'd go there. So you can take their rooms. It'd be fine."

Were. . .were they being _serious?_ Were they talking about a house? I looked sidelong at Sy. "Are they kidding?"

He shook his head. "They're talking about a house we've got out in California. Nobody knows where it is except for us and my mother."

"Your mom?" Fang said, sounding surprised.

"Okay. Explain," Max ordered.

Sy let out a breath. "Itex keeps-er, well, _kept _houses all over the country for the teams they sent out."

"Like us," Blaze interrupted.

"Yeah," Sy went on. "Places where they could rest up and re-stock and whatever. They're mostly simple cabins or apartments, but a few of them were nicer."

"Wait, if they're owned by Itex, then that's no good," Max said, frowning. "Somebody could find us."

"First of all, Itex is done," I said firmly. "Anything that had to do with it is gone or changed so much that you wouldn't recognize it. They're a new company now, and I heard the new guy doesn't want anything to do with the old regime." _Except that he wants us gone, but that ain't happenin'. Since Leander isn't stalking me anymore, he won't know where we are._

"Exactly," Wave said, picking up on my train of thought. "And even if the new guy decided to get rid of the stock houses, there are others we could go to."

"Totally." Kyla turned around as well and winked. "Some of the sneakier, more paranoid scientists stashed secret nicer places for emergency use."

Max straightened up. "Scientists like Je-like the ones who dealt directly with the mutants?"

I remembered that Max's dad, some dude called Jeb, had been a whitecoat who'd gotten her and the flock out of the School in the first place. I hadn't met him, but apparently he'd saved the flock, been like a dad to them, then left and betrayed them and basically went over to the dark side (what a guy). The house they'd lived in must've been one of these so-called emergency places.

Wave nodded at Max. "Uh-huh. Usually the heads of departments. Just lookin' out for their life's work, ya know?"

"And you guys have one of these?" Iggy asked, turning his head towards me and Sy.

"My mom _was_ a head of department," Sy reminded him. Then he shrugged. "She wanted to be sure we could hide out someplace where Itex couldn't find us if anything ever went wrong."

"Aw. The way mothers plan to exploit their children as leverage is just so sweet, innit?" I teased, poking his ribs. He twitched away, grabbing up my hands in his so I wouldn't start a thing like I had last night. I snickered and backed off.

"You guys talkin' 'bout the Santa Barbara house?" Aqua asked, popping up and leaning on the back of my seat. Arthur was soon beside her, leaning on Sy's seat, his face set in the same curious expression as his sister's. They were the only two "younger kids" back here with us, and hadn't made a peep up till now.

"Yup," Wave said, speaking to her over my head. "We're thinkin' of shacking up there with the bird kids."

"Seriously?" Arthur said, eyebrows shooting up.

"Good idea, though," Aqua said, and Arthur glanced at her. "The place is nice. More like a hotel than anything. Lots of rooms for everybody."

"Wicked game room, too. And pools," he said, nodding.

"Wait, pool_s?_" Con said suddenly. He sat up some, pushing back his hood. "As in plural?"

"Sure," the twins said in unison. "One in the basement and one in the backyard."

"The one in the backyard's bigger," Aqua began.

"But the basement one is heated," Arthur finished.

"Dude. That. Sounds. _Epic,_" I enunciated.

"Why's your guys' house so much nicer than any of ours were?" Con demanded. The twins just snickered and ignored the question.

"Wait." Max leaned around Fang so she could glare at Sy. "You guys have a safe house, but you're just mentioning it _now?_ What's the deal?"

"Uh. . ." Sy shifted, obviously not having a good answer.

"Nobody ever asked if anybody had a secret house stashed someplace," the twins interjected. Max looked at them skeptically and they tilted their heads, grinning identical, innocent smiles. Their unison was something else, dude, better than even my cousins'. "You should ask next time. It wouldn't be so much of a surprise."

"Exactly," Sy said, "what I was about to say."

I glanced at Sy and he smiled sheepishly. I rolled my eyes, then poked his side again. He jerked, choking back a laugh.

"So, this secret house," Fang prompted, trying to dissipate Max's irritation. "Nobody knows where it is?"

"Only us," Wave said, nodding.

"But what about Sy's mom?" he asked. "Isn't she the one who bought it in the first place?"

"Well, _yeah,_ but she hates Santa Barbara," Sy said. "She knows the address, but only ever went to the place twice. Once to buy it, once to make sure it was furnished to her liking."

"She could still find it, though," Max persisted. When Sy hesitated, she looked suspicious. "Couldn't she?"

"She won't," Sy said finally, trying to sound careless as he looked out the window. "If it's like Spark said, then the new guy cleaned house. She probably got. . .uh, fired."

I wondered if we'd have to go through the awkward conversation of explaining the firing process of Itex-you know, the one that may or may not have included lethal injections-but understanding flickered through Max's eyes. "Oh."

"Right." Kyla cleared her throat. "So it doesn't matter if she knew where it is. Nobody would be able to find us."

"Us?" Blaze echoed disbelievingly.

"Oh, come on," Wave said flippantly, rolling her eyes. "We all need a place to live. Our safe house is big enough for everybody. It's obvious we're all going to live there. Right?"

There was a bit of an awkward silence after that, but Con finally broke it by saying, "I don't care about the rest of you, but I am _not_ living in the same house as Max and Fang if it means they'll be sending in their brats to wake me up at six-fucking-thirty every goddamn morning."

I don't know if he _meant_ for it to be funny, but it broke the silence and we all laughed.

"You're such a brat, you know that?" I said, playfully kicking at his foot from where it hung down over the edge of his seat. He irritably picked it up and twisted around, sitting in his seat normal. Then he leaned his elbow on the armrest and put his head on his fist.

"Well, if it means I'm waking up before ten, I'd rather live on the street," he said. "I don't care if the rest of you were infused with songbird DNA that gives you the urge to wake up at dawn and prance about singing show tunes, but I wasn't, okay?"

"Do you just hate show tunes?" I asked. "Or is it the prancing? Because we can let you frolic, if you like."

"I just hate songs that get stuck in my head," he replied irritably. "Show tunes are tailor-made for that."

"And one TV plus one remote equals one person dominating what we watch when we're all bored," Blaze said, smirking. "Personally, I find musicals to be hilarious in the way that everybody just randomly starts singing and dancing. So as soon as I learned they annoyed pretty much everyone else, I made a point to watch them as much as possible."

"Ah, the Annoying People for the Fun of It Club," I said, smiling. "Never expected you to be a member, Blaze." She shrugged modestly.

"We never had that problem," said Aqua.

"Yeah, since there were more of us, we had more than one TV," Arthur said.

"Like at the house!" Wave said brightly. "There's three there, two on the first floor and one in the game room. Come on, guys, just think about it. Even if it's only for a little while, it'll be fun. Don't you ever just want to party with your friends like any other kid?"

"It is great when we get to relax, but for us, it never really lasts," Max said. "Your guys' place sounds nice and all, but I think we should ask everybody if they even want to first," Max said. She looked at Fang, but he just shrugged a shoulder.

"I'll go where you go."*

Max half-smiled at him appreciatively, then stood up in her seat and looked back. "Iggy?"

"Hmm." Iggy tapped his fingers on his chin, cloudy eyes fixed up at the ceiling. "I'm not so sure," he said thoughtfully. "Sell me on the place, then I'll decide. What's it like?"

"There are three floors, with ten rooms on the second floor and another ten on the third," Wave reeled off, sounding for the love of all that is holy like a real-estate agent. "The bottom floor's spacey, with a front room, dining room, and kitchen, and in the basement is the pool and game room. There are bathrooms on each floor, and the showers are in the basement just by the pool. The outside's got some yardage around it, obviously, so we can have some privacy, but there are still other houses nearby. They're mainly full of younger adults who've rented out the space to avoid living in the dorms of nearby colleges. That way, since we're all kids ourselves, it's not too difficult to hide in plain sight."

Iggy whistled. "Holy crap. I'm in."

Then it was my turn. Max looked to me, though I could tell from her gaze she probably knew my answer. "Spark?"

"It. . ." I trailed off, smiling and shaking my head. "It does sound kind of perfect."

And it did. It sounded like this house had been made specifically for a situation such as ours. I mean, seriously. A crapload of rooms for a crapload of kids. Pools, game room, privacy. Livin' it up with all your friends and no adults to tell you what to do? It was anything a runaway bird-kid could ask for.

"It is perfect," said Wave decisively. "So-"

"The only issue would be the fact that about half of us would have to share rooms," said Kyla suddenly. Then she shrugged. "But we shouldn't have to worry, because we can pawn that off on the younger kids."

_Half?_ I thought about it for a second, but it didn't add up. So I said so. "Wait a second, I think your math is wrong."

"Hm? No, I think I'm right," Kyla said.

"No, you're not," I persisted. "This place has twenty rooms, right? There are only twenty-one of us. Only two would have to share a room."

"Twenty-one?" Wave said, an eyebrow perking up in disbelief. "No way, there's more than that. You have seven, Con has five, we have nine-"

"Yeah, that makes twenty-one," I started to say, but Wave ignored me.

"-and Frankie's got another six," she finished. "That makes twenty-seven."

I wasn't the only confused one. Practically everyone except for Kyla and Wave herself had some sort of look on their face, and the twins even said, "We're going to live with Frankie and them too?"

My mind blanked out. It was a weird sense of déjà vu: this was just like when Blaze had first asked about Total. Sure, a lot of shit had happened, and I hadn't had any way of contacting them in the first place, but. . .still. _I'd forgotten about Joey and Frankie._ They'd gone through all the trouble to help me escape way back in Chicago, and then they'd automatically sided with us to throw the London conference to end Itex. They'd been such a big part of it, and I. . .I'd totally let them slip my mind.

I felt my mouth gape open as Sy straightened up. In an almost-irritated tone, he said to Wave, "You got in touch with them? And told them they could go to the house?"

Wave blinked in surprise. "Well, sure. I've been checking MSN practically nonstop since we've had access to computers. I wanted to know if Frankie was okay."

"He's on MSN?" Con said.

"_You're_ on MSN?" Blaze asked.

"Of course we are," Kyla replied, waving them off. "Since nobody could tell us what happened to them, we had to find out for ourselves. They're all right, but Frankie said Joey went to check their own houses and they were all gone."

"Gone?" I finally said, still reeling from the revelation. Geez, how bad a friend was I? It's like, out of sight, out of mind.

"Yup," Wave nodded. "They'd been sold, or just bombed. Their dad wasn't as paranoid as Marein was. So I told them they could go to our place and hang out. That's okay, right?" she asked, looking at Sy.

Sy leaned back in his seat and put his hand to his head. "I guess," he sighed defeatedly. "Not much you're going to let me do about it anyway, right?"

"Aw. Knew you'd see it my way," Wave said, smiling and reaching out to ruffle his hair.

"Okay, wait a second," Max said, and we all looked at her. "Now we're talking almost thirty kids, all underage, all in the same house? No way."

"Max, chill out," Kyla said, trying to sound casual. "The house was designed to take care of all the fish hybrids in case something happened to the Salt Lake Lab or just the company in general. Sometimes we numbered almost forty. Believe me, it's not as hectic as you'd think."

"I don't like it." Max shook her head and I felt myself frown. "It's. . .it just sounds too _perfect._"

"How so?" Wave asked.

"What, so you just _conveniently_ happen to have a fairy-tale ending set up for us in California?" she said, skeptical sarcasm thick in her tone. "Where no one will find us, where we'll be safe, and where we can all live together for happily ever after?"**

"That's one way of putting it, I guess," Sy said mildly. Max scowled at him and he took a breath. "Look, Max, if you don't want to stay there, then don't. Nobody's forcing you. I know not all of us like each other, or even trust each other. But it doesn't sound like you have anywhere else to go if you're going to be looking for a permanent place, so we're just saying. It's there."

"We should take the offer," I said suddenly.

"What?" Max's gaze shifted from Sy and snapped on to me instead.

I felt like looking away, but didn't want to appear unsure. So I stared her right in the eye and said it straight: "You may be leader, Max, but this time you asked for our input. So I'm giving it. We should take the offer. It's too late to back out now anyway."

She blinked in surprise. And I was shocked, too-I hardly ever sounded so serious. But you know, there are times when even I have to grow up. I can't always take everything as a joke, because that's not what life is. Sure, you can make it fun by clowning around and making people laugh, but at some point you have to swallow the sarcasm and bite back the taunt and actually take charge. Life's the only thing we've got, so yeah, sometimes we have to acknowledge that.

"What do you mean?" Max asked slowly. Most everyone turned to stare at me, waiting for my response. Reeaaally wanted to look away again, but instead I looked around to everyone, meeting their eyes for just a second before moving on.

"Well, think about it," I said, shifting uncomfortably under the weight of ten gazes. "We're unique. The only ones of our kind, you could say. Sure, we piss each other off sometimes-"

Con scoffed. "_Some_times?"

I ignored him and continued. "-but so what? All families do that. And yes, before anybody says anything, we are all a family," I added, glaring pointedly at Con and Blaze. Con rolled his eyes and Blaze frowned. "A weird, dysfunctional, totally violent and _abusive_ family, but still. We're connected in that way that families are. And Joey and Frankie are connected to us too, not only because they're hybrids like us, but because they've also come from Itex and are somehow good kids in spite of it. Just like all of us here. So suck it up, 'cuz you know it's true.

"Now listen. I know the majority of us all hated each other when we first met. I mean, _I_ for sure as hell didn't like Con and Blaze." I glanced at them again, but now they were both looking away. "And when you started chasing us, I started to hate you. You just kept thorning my side and wouldn't leave me alone. But I guess I deserved it a little, considering what I did."

I took a second to breathe. I kept waiting for someone to interrupt me, to tell me I was wrong and didn't know what I was saying, but no one did. They all seemed content to let me talk. So I went on.

"Because of all the hate that had built up, it was a pain in the ass trying to team up so we could figure out a way to end Itex. Even then, it was probably really hard for some of us to look past it and work toward that greater good. But look at us now." I waved my hand in a gesture to everyone on the plane. "Here we are, all in the same vicinity, not even thinking about wanting to kill each other. It's because we've all adjusted enough to overlook the irritation everybody else brings. Or at least, that's how it is for me." I dropped my eyes and felt myself start to smile. "Thing is, I'm used to the pain of all you thorns in my side, so if I tried to take you out now, it'd just hurt worse. So we might as well stick together, y'know?"

My little speech was followed by silence. I kept my eyes fixed on the floor, unwilling to look at anybody, suddenly very self-conscious. Not every day you get to hear somethin' like that comin' from ol' Sparky, huh? Maybe I should laugh it off, pretend it's nothing. Anything to break that silence.

Con _tch_ed. "Gag. That was so cheesy I may just throw up."

My head snapped up and I glared at him. It was only more annoying that he was smirking. "Shut up."

"Wow," Iggy said, sounding puzzled. I scowled at him next, but of course he didn't see it. Blaze did, though, and she snickered. "I don't think I've _ever_ heard you sound so sentimentally serious before. That _was_ you talking, wasn't it?"

"Ah, leave me alone," I said, feeling my collar heat up. It's one thing for people to make fun of me when I'm being stupid on purpose, but it's different if I'm trying to be sincere. "If you wanna ignore all I said, then fine. I was just giving my opinion."

"C'mon, you know they're teasing," Sy told me, slipping his arm round my shoulders and lightly kissing my head. "They're acting the same way you would if anybody else had said it."

I felt a frown pull at my mouth. _Well, that is true. . ._

"Don't be embarrassed by what you said, Spark," Max said, and I looked up at her. Surprisingly, she was smiling. "I hate to say it because I know you'll never let me live it down, but I think you're right."

"Is there something wrong with my ears?" Iggy asked, wiggling his finger in one of them. "Because I swear I thought I heard Max _willingly _admit _to witnesses_ that Spark was actually right about something."

"Like it or not, it does happen on occasion," said Con.

"Okay, seriously now." I chuckled as Iggy tilted his head and hit the heel of his hand against his temple, as if he were trying to knock water out of his ears. "If it's not my ears, then it's gotta be the air on this thing. It's messing with your heads. The two people who disagree with Spark most are on her side? When did this happen?"

"I'm not on her side," Con snapped back at him. "I'm just saying that yeah, sometimes she's right. And if you guys are facing a dilemma about where you're gonna go, then listen to Spark and go with the fish-kids." Iggy snickered at his outburst and Con irritably leaned his head on his hand, staring out the window. "She's never gonna leave Sy anyway, so if you don't want to lose her you're going to have to go with him."

"What about us, though?" Blaze asked, looking down at Con. He didn't respond to her, so she reached down and poked his shoulder. "Con."

"If you guys want to go too, that's fine," he said tonelessly. Blaze blinked, looking confused. "Itex doesn't control us anymore. It's like when I told Avi she could go home. Before, somebody would've done something if we split up. Since nobody's left, nobody cares. You can do what you want. It doesn't matter to me."

The way he said it sounded like. . .like he wasn't going to go with his flock. I hesitated, wondering if it was just me, but everyone else seemed to be experiencing the same awkward silence that I was. Con, however, didn't take notice. He just kept looking out the window, so he didn't see the look on Blaze's face.

I saw it, though.

And I started to laugh.

Everyone looked at me, but it was Con who asked, "What's so funny?"

I could tell he was going for mild, but I could hear the tension. I laughed some more.

"You. . .you. . .you just made it sound like you weren't coming with us!" I managed to say. "Like you were going to go off and disappear or something! Ha!"

I saw some of the others looking at each other, silently wondering if I was crazy. But who cared about that? Right now, I just had to make sure nobody saw how Blaze had looked when Con had said what he'd said. You never really saw the softer side of Blaze, but I saw it then. She'd looked genuinely hurt by that. And I would _not_ let Con get away with it.

Blaze looked at me and, though I didn't meet her eyes for longer than a second, I winked. The confusion remained in her expression, but it was no longer that sad sort of bewilderment. It was more of a, "Thanks for making it better, but I don't get why you're doing it for me" sort of look. And that's what I'd been aiming for. No more sadness.

Con just stared at me like I was an idiot. "And that's funny _how?_"

"Oh, come on," I said, half-smiling. "Face it, man. You're stuck with us." His jaw clenched and his eyes hardened, but I kept on grinning in that goofy fashion that I have. "You may have let _me_ go ten years ago, but there's no way we're lettin' _you_ go now. We're all in this together, Con."

"Like in _High School Musical_," Sy said brightly. I bit my lip so I wouldn't burst out laughing. I mean, just the fact that he even knew what _High School Musical_ was was funny enough, but to know the title of the ending song? Priceless.

"Exactly," I said, my voice high and weird from the strain of keeping back the laughter. "Like in _High School Musical_."

Con remained still for a moment, but then all of a sudden his eyes closed and he cursed. "Damn it."

"What?"

"Show tune. Stuck in my head," he said, leaning back in his seat and covering his head with his hands. Sinking low in his seat, Con cursed again. "Thanks a lot, Sy. I officially fucking hate you."

And cue the slapstick.*** I started cracking up again, and this time I wasn't alone. Pretty much everybody decided it was okay to laugh at poor Con's misery, and eventually he got pissed enough to throw one of his shoes at me and Sy. I didn't mind, though. My mission was now accomplished. We were all sticking together, whether we liked it or not.

In a way, I guess all of our "missions" had been accomplished. Max was supposed to save the world from Itex, right? Well, we did that. And the rest of her flock was supposed to help her with that, right? Well, we did that too!

Con and the anti-flock's mission had been to get me back for running out on them ten years ago. So yeah, they may not have killed me like they'd originally planned, but they sure beat the hell out of me way back when, didn't they? We've had our differences and our fights and such, but we've had the better times, too. It'd be tough, but I knew we could learn to be friends again. We were kind of already halfway there.

And Sy-well, okay, maybe him and the other fish kids hadn't really had a mission, but they were staying friends with us, right? And they'd even made sure Joey and Frankie were okay. And they were going to provide the house. So I guess you could say their mission was to tie up all the loose ends. And they'd done that.

It was all working out. With all of the previous evil in our lives finished up and tucked away, it seemed as if we could finally settle down and just. . .live.

It was a scary thought. Abandoning our runaway lifestyle and assimilating into society? Yeah, like _that_ was going to be easy. But we could do it. We're tough, we can adapt. And if anything goes wrong, we can always just ditch society altogether and head to Canada to become hermits. It's a great back-up plan. Really. Because Canada is always the answer.

But, no matter what was gonna happen, we were all going to face it together.

Like in _High School Musical._

Which Con has apparently seen.

"Stop _laughing_ at me!" Con yelled, throwing his other shoe at me. I took the hit, but yanked my own shoe off my foot and chucked it back. Just as I threw it, though, the plane hit a spot of turbulence and made my shot go funky. The shoe missed Con completely and hit the wall of the plane, bouncing off and hitting Blaze instead.

"Hey!" Because, well, she was _Blaze,_ she stood up, grabbed my shoe, and threw it back. The turbulence was still going, however, and she managed to smack Wave on accident. So _she_ started throwing stuff, and then the twins got in on the action, and _then_ the kids up front came back to see what all the fun was about, and it just _all_ went to hell.

And such was the great Shoe War of 2008, the first of what would probably be many, many pointless fights in the life I'd live amongst the crazy, violent group of hybrids I so proudly call my family.

I couldn't wait for that life to start.

* * *

*yes. in my story, fang isn't a little bitch who just leaves and starts his own gang. yeah, i finally read _angel._ and it was one of the stupidest things i've ever read. especially dylan. i mean, for god's sake, the others start a food fight and then he randomly jumps on the table and starts singing. how idiotic is that? *opens book, finds scene* oh, wait, never mind, he jumps on a chair. much better. *rolls eyes*

**i side with max on this one. hey, i may be the author, but even _i_ know this is too perfectly convenient. but you know what? screw it. the best thing about not thinking the whole story through is that when you get to the end like this, you find convenient opportunities such as the one i found here. and you act on them. because you're the author, and so long as it fits logically, you're allowed to do that :P

***a slapstick was a thing they used back in the day to create a slapping sound. this way, during a comedic play, one actor could hit another, and the comically loud sound would incite laughter throughout the audience. interwesting, no?

but anyway. would ya look at that? it took a bit longer than i expected, but it finally happened, just as i promised it would. three-two-one and we are done. thanks for readin', guys. it's been a blast.


	38. Chapter 38

surprise!

well, since the epilogue was chapter thirty-seven, i had to write something else to make it an even thirty-eight. so i present to you:

* * *

_**the super-secret after-the-epilogue bonus chapter!**_

Hey. Spark here.

How's it goin'?

Yeah, yeah, I know. The epilogue of any story is supposed to be the grand finale, but I've decided to go on an encore.

My epically exciting tale has ended, and just between you and me, I'm kinda sad that it's over.

Sure, we're gonna go live it up in Santa Barbara, but seriously? Even normality has its adventures.

Maybe none so dangerous as what we've gone through over the past two months, but still.

Either way, I feel somewhat obligated to leave you with a clichéd, fills-your-heart-with-warm-little-fuzzies kinda message. Or something.

But I'm not _that _obligated, so all I'll say is this:

I'm only fifteen, so I got a lot of life ahead of me.

I'll be back.

Eventually.

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. . .Um, if you're looking for another super-secret after-the-epilogue bonus chapter, you're outta luck.

Sorry.

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Seriously? The story's over. Stop looking for more. There aren't any more chapters.

Stop scrolling down.

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I told you to stop scrolling, didn't I? Well, in case you didn't hear me, I'll say it slowly:

_There aren't any more chapters._

_The story is over._

_This is my final word._

_If you keep scrolling down, you will face the consequences._

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All right, so I lied.

There really are no consequences for scrolling down, and nor could I deliver them through a computer, but seriously, get over it.

I'm sorry you came to the end and all, but I really can't help you.

Go back and start over if you want, I don't really care.

Just stop scrolling down so I can leave and get on with my life.

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You're really pissing me off, you know that?

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All right then, _fine_. Keep scrolling down. I don't care.

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All right, so I lied again. I do care.

_Stop scrolling down, dammit! ! ! ! ! ! !_

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(That was seven exclamation points, in case you were wondering. I'm talkin' serious business here.)

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I sincerely hope you didn't actually scroll back up and check if the message before the previous message actually contained seven exclamation points.

Who am I kidding. You probably did, didn't you.

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Please.

I am begging you.

Stop scrolling.

I can't do this forever.

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You're wasting your time and mine!

Knock it off!

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I.

Am.

Serious.

I am going to beat you with a freaking cane if you don't effing stop it!

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I'm done with you.

Goodbye.

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GODDAMMIT I SAID GOODBYE!

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* * *

lol. couldn't resist.

hope you enjoyed the story, 'cuz i know i did ;)


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